


bon appetit

by nirvhannahcornell (josiebelladonna)



Series: hamthrax sandwich [1]
Category: Anthrax (US Band), Bandom
Genre: Anti-Hero, Author is Bored at the Time of Writing, Bad Girls - Freeform, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Comfort Food, Cooking, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dark Comedy, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Foreplay, Gallows Humor, Hand Feeding, Hand Jobs, Hypnotism, I said slow burn ya bastards, Inspired by Poetry, Lots of denial, Love Triangles, Mind Games, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, POV Alternating, Pining, Reading this will add a few inches to your waist FACT, Seduction, Seduction to the Dark Side, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, So much pine I feel like I’m in upstate New York, Stockholm Syndrome, Sugar Mama, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, You ever look at some fry bread and angst over it so much?, so much, starving artists, was at one time a one shot oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 53
Words: 76,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22369507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josiebelladonna/pseuds/nirvhannahcornell
Summary: “She said she’s a baker and she’d be willing to give us what we’re coming for. If it’s to get food in our stomachs and not a five-way orgy into our pants, I think we’ll be fine, Scott.”Hypnotic, sultry, and irresistible, Dan can't resist to bring her back to the boys for a meeting. But she finds something else quite enticing about that mysterious singer, and yet, even with the fake dating, Dan seems to have this bad girl wrapped around his finger, especially when she shows that she can perhaps cater for them. What can possibly go wrong?The twin companion to a skeleton in the closet!*written while under quarantine for the coronavirus
Relationships: Charlie Benante/Original Female Character, Dan Spitz/Original Female Character, Frank Bello/Original Female Character, Joey Belladonna/Original Female Character, Scott Ian/Original Female Character
Series: hamthrax sandwich [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629580





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sure where I’m going with this one but it’s score another for the five cutie pies from New York! Joey’s still gonna have a good time for a good time on his part as well as Scott, Frankie, and Charlie, but Danny’s gonna lead the way this time.  
> Named for the classic French phrase and also the Katy Perry song 😘

She began working at Smell the Magic about five weeks ago, at first beginning with the bakery in Portland and then another entry up in the heart of West Seattle. The hours, while grueling at first, managed ease off with time and experience. In fact, she loved that whenever she returned home to her place down in Lake Oswego, she always carried with her in the roots of her wavy yet smooth black hair that combined lovely aroma of fresh baked breads and pastries. The otherwise two and a half hour commute from her driveway to the place up near Pike Place Market made no difference as so long as she got to make everything, from those lush fresh tequila and chili pepper-infused chocolate donuts with a fiery red glaze and warming Marion berry muffins to bite-sized buttery Napoleons and decadent raspberry danishes. All of the recipes in the official cookbook feel so avant-garde and so forward-thinking for the Eighties: it’s no wonder everyone won’t stop talking about this place!  
It all seemed to be going very well for her.  
And it all seems to be going so well that early on this lovely spring morning, a rather short gentleman walks in through the smoky glass front door, the first patron of the day no less.  
She’s in the back room, tending to one of the ovens baking a fresh batch of those gorgeous donuts. Within time, she spots him eyeing the muffins and the tiny cakes in glass display case. He is in fact short, almost like that of a young boy, with long smooth-looking light brown hair down past his shoulders and a crown of feathery hair atop his head.  
“I’ll be with you in just a bit,” she calls out to him.  
“Okay!” he replies, turning his attention to her; he has a very handsome face and brilliant blue eyes which take her by surprise a bit. “Take your time, too—I’m in no rush.”  
“I just have one more minute on these donuts...” She leans back for a peek into the glass front window of the little silvery oven and the light on the inside making the crispy top of the donuts glisten: they must sit and cool off before she dips them into that warm bright red glaze for the top.  
“What’s on these danishes here?” he asks; he speaks with an accent that’s obviously American, but not from this part of the country.  
“Marion berries. They’re a variation of blackberry native to Oregon. Kinda tart, kinda sweet, kinda earthy... quite tasty!” The timer goes off with a soft ding! and she lunges for the oven mitts on the counter top. Careful not to burn herself, she slides the baking sheet out of the oven and lays it on the counter behind her for them to cool off. The fresh aroma of dough fills the room around her.  
“Oh, man, something smells good,” he remarks, standing upright. "What is that?"  
“Donuts! Fresh out of the oven.”  
“Ooh, what kind?” He gives his hair a toss back before he heads on over to the doorway to watch in on what’s happening. She slides in another sheet full of raw donuts ready to be baked, closes the oven door, and turns on the timer for twenty more minutes. She then flashes him a big beaming smile; he raises his eyebrows at her jet black hair tied back atop her head with a hairnet, her pristine teeth, and also the tattoo of Miss Piggy on her right shoulder and another one of a crow on her wrist.  
“Dark chocolate... infused with spice and tequila for a little extra kick.” She sets down the timer next to the dials of the oven and then wipes her hands on her apron. “These other ones have to cool down a little before I put the glaze on by the way.”  
“God, that sounds divine...” He eyes the little bronze rectangle on her chest. “...Valentina?”  
“Yes, sir. Call me Val, though.” She flashes him a little wink.  
“I’m Dan, but everyone calls me Danny. I’m from New York City.”  
“I was just gonna say, you don’t sound like you’re from around here," she confesses. "Makes sense given not everyone knows about lovely Marion berries. Would you like to try one?”  
“Oh, I would love to,” he replies. She skirts past him and takes a whiff of the cologne on the side of his neck all the while. As she closes her eyes before his face, he holds perfectly still with his back to the wall, as if unsure on what to do next. She opens her eyes to look right into his face and those bright blue irises for a moment before she slips all the way past him. She walks onward to the display case to fetch a couple of plump ripe Marion berries out of the little green basket for him. They’re fresh, washed clean of anything nefarious; she picks up a couple from the basket and returns to Danny with the both of them in between two fingers of either hand.  
“With love from Oregon,” she declares, handing them to him. He takes the one in her left hand first and pops it into his mouth. Juices swirl around upon the tip of his tongue and all around his mouth, which in turn brings a tingle to the bottom of his jaw.  
“Oh wow,” he remarks, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh wow, that’s incredible.”  
“Told you they were delicious.” He swallows and takes the other one. It makes his jaw tingle even more and his mouth water at this little piece of the Willamette Valley.  
“So what would ya like?” she offers to him, wiping her hands on her apron again.  
“Gosh, I don’t know. It all looks so decadent and scrumptious, I don’t even know where to begin.”  
“Well, I think these donuts could use about another minute,” she points out behind him. “How about I get a start on the glaze, and we’ll see where it goes from there?”  
“Sounds good by me.” He flashes her a thumbs up. She skirts past him again and back into the kitchen for a big silver bowl and a wooden spoon from the cupboard overhead. She reaches into the neighboring cupboard for the powdered sugar, and then she saunters over to the refrigerator for some milk, vanilla extract, and the signature ingredients: red food coloring, dark chocolate shavings, and pepper flakes, the latter of which she only needs in what she calls a "kiss".  
Danny watches her from the doorway as she mixes the sugar, the milk, and the vanilla into the bowl with that big wooden spoon. She has a little bit of a sway to her hips with each tug and pull of the mixture as it thickens into a pearly white syrup. She then adds a few drops of the food coloring into it for that fiery red color. Once it's there, she glances over at her sheet of crisp, baked donuts and figures they’re ready for the glazing. She lets the spoon rest against the rim of the bowl so she can grab a rack and a sheet of wax paper to lay next to her bowl.  
“I should ask you,” she starts, stirring the glaze inside of the bowl, “what brings you to Seattle? You got family out here?”  
“Nah, I’m actually a musician,” he replies, “my band’s out here touring.”  
“Oh cool! Where are you guys playing?” She picks up two of the donuts and dips them upside down into the glaze.  
“The Moore Theater, I think it’s what it’s called.”  
“The Moore, wow!” She flashes him an excited expression, and then she returns to the donuts. She places the first two on the rack glaze side up so the flaming red mixture hardens and glistens in the overhead lights.  
“You should come if you get the chance,” he suggests. “If not, I’ll sneak ya inside.”  
“When are you guys playing?” She dips two more donuts into the glaze.  
“Tomorrow at eight o’clock. We’re the second act to go on, too.”  
“So... not an evening with you guys?”  
“Gosh, I wish. Maybe some day it’ll just be us to stand on our own.”  
“What instrument do you play?” She sets down the donuts and reaches for two more.  
“Lead guitar. I’m not that good, though.”  
“Oh, I’m sure you’re fantastic.”  
“Nah.”  
She peers over her shoulder at him again.  
“Tomorrow at eight you said?” she repeats, reaching for the chocolate shavings and the pepper flakes.  
“Tomorrow at eight. And I’ll smuggle you in if I must.” She hands him a glazed donut for the taking, and he presses a hand to his chest.  
“For me?” he asks, taken aback.  
“All for you. Bon appetit.”  
He’s careful to take the donut from her, despite the hardened glaze on the top. He takes a whiff of it first, and then he opens his mouth and takes a bite. The donut is earthy, warm, sweet, smooth, and with twin kisses of the spice and the tequila to finish it out: it’s akin to a hug from the inside. The milk in the glaze meanwhile keeps the bite of the chili peppers at bay.  
“So what do you think?” She wipes her hands on her apron again, and then turns to the sink to wash off.  
“Temptation and seduction in pastry form,” he answers with his mouth full; he brings his hand up to his mouth once again. “Got milk?”  
“Just the gallon I was using for the glaze—I’d be happy to pour you a glass, though.” She doubles back to the red refrigerator in the corner for a glass from the cupboard next to it. She takes one out and returns to her work station for the milk carton. She then hands him the glass for him to drink.  
Danny closes his eyes as he swallows down two gulps and takes another bite of donut.  
“Oh, man,” he mutters, closing his eyes again, “oh, my—“  
“Good?”  
“I gotta sit down—“  
He ducks down onto the empty milk crate on the floor behind him. She licks her lips at him.  
“So how many are in your band?” she asks him as the timer goes off again.  
“There’s five of us—“ he answers, taking another drink of milk.  
“I’ll finish these ones up here and then you can take a box of a full dozen to them. It’ll be on me.”  
“Gosh, you’re too kind—“ He takes another bite of donut and follows up with another drink of milk.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Straddle the line in discord and rhyme,  
>  I'm on the hunt, I'm after you.  
> Mouth is alive with juices like wine,  
> and I'm hungry like the wolf."_  
> -"Hungry Like the Wolf", Duran Duran

After Valentina had packed up a whole dozen of those decadent donuts to take with him, complete in a hot pink box with "Smell the Magic" written on the top in fancy font, Danny stands there at the doorway with the inside of his mouth coated in the milk and his chest warm from the chocolate and the chilies.  
"So," she begins with a sly grin, "you just take that over to the hotel and let your boys have their way with those tasty donuts."  
He gives his hair a toss back with a flick of his head. The chilies had warmed him up enough for him to beckon a possible bout of sweating. He knew he wasn't sweating but he could not resist the feeling from within him.  
"Shall I tell them that it was courtesy of the lovely baker?" he asks her.  
"Please," she insists, picking out a heavy stone rolling pin from the cupboard next to the main oven. "They'll be pleased to know that their lead guitarist found them the best baked goods in the Northwest."  
"Not too shabby for a bunch of starving artists, either, if I might say so myself. Phew. I'm warm."  
He shifts his weight there at the doorway, eyeing her all the while. She flashes a glimpse over at him, fluttering her eyelashes at him all the while.  
"What's on your mind?" she inquires.  
"When do you get off work?"  
"When? At eleven. Why?" She flutters her eyelashes at him again. "You wanna hang out and introduce me to your band mates before you have your little show?"  
He holds onto the box with one hand so he can put the other behind his back and tip his head down for a coy look at her.  
"You wanna do that, don't you?" she asks him again, setting down the rolling pin and wiping her hands on her apron.  
"If it's not too much trouble," he begins.  
"It's a bit of a drive to my house, though," she points out, sauntering to the entrance and setting her hands on the edges of the door frame.  
"Again, if it's not too much trouble."  
She runs her tongue along the edge of her top row of teeth. Dan scans the two tattoos she has on her arms as well as that velvety tongue poking its way out of her mouth.  
"Tell you what," she starts again, this time in a low voice, "you take those lovely donuts with you to your hotel room, and I'll be there sooner than you know once I get off my shift. Where are you guys staying?"  
"Oh, just a little hotel near Pike Place Market. It's within walking range of the Moore."  
"Pike Place? Well, there's only one hotel near there. I'll ask for the blue-eyed, long-haired boy with the New Yorker accent that hits me right between the eyes. I'm a baker: I'll give you fellas are coming for here in Seattle."  
She flashes him a wink so brief that even she herself is unaware she did it. Dan quivers and shakes, and then uses his other hand to hold onto the box from the bottom.  
Valentina watches him head out of the bakery to the street: his light long hair streaks behind him upon walking and meeting up with the gentle morning breeze outside.

Meanwhile, Dan pads down the sidewalk to the bus stop while cradling this box of donuts in his arms. He figured that, since this next bus coming around is a feeder bus, it would be best if he kept the lid on this box closed to keep in the warmth of the donuts. The cool breeze emerging off of the Puget Sound kisses his face which in turn brings much relief to his warm skin. His lips feel a touch too warm from the chilies in the donuts, but the milk had done wonders back there.  
There's a ray of relief running through him at the moment: he had had a whole story planned out to tell the bakers in there that he only had so much money in his pocket, and add to that, he needed money for the bus ride back to the heart of Seattle.  
Such is the life of the starving artist.  
The five of them hoped the label would help out foot the bills, but Jonny Z hadn't called them back yet. They each came to a consensus that it's best to play by ear and make their way with what money they each had on them. Unfortunately, Frankie and Charlie both had their last paychecks bounce, one right after the other, Joey has twenty dollars in the pocket of his leather jacket and eleven cents in the pocket of his tight jeans, and to make matters worse, Scott lost his wallet at some point during the flight from New York City.  
Dan stands there before the bench in anticipation of the bus: between the breeze from the Puget Sound and the rays of the sun caressing over him, he feels himself relaxing. Maybe it's the donut he had eaten, and maybe it's the realization that there's a baker here in the Northwest who can perhaps care for them, but he has a warm, easy feeling within him, right inside of his chest and his stomach. One that gives him a sensation of nostalgia back to when he was a young kid growing up in Rockland County, right outside of the City.  
He closes his eyes, and sighs through his nose, and further relaxes. It's peaceful and easy right here, feeling the breeze and the morning sun, and knowing that he has that box of donuts right before his chest at the moment. He hesitates there for a moment to take in everything around him when the low rumble of the bus to the left of him catches his ear.  
Dan opens his eyes to witness the large, long blue and white city bus lumbering towards him: it edges closer to the curb as it approaches closer and closer to him. He lowers his right arm for a reach into his jeans pocket for the loose change to pay the fare once again. He steadies the box on his forearm as he picks out the couple of quarters and few dimes.  
All the change he has left on his person.  
The doors squeak open and Dan boards, still keeping the box balanced on his forearm and up against his chest, and drops in the change into the box there next to the young redheaded driver.  
"Pike Place Market, please," he states to her.  
"Gonna be a while," she replies, "but gladly. I will take you there." Her dark red lips curl up into a friendly smile for him and he returns the favor for her. The doors squeak shut behind him and he lunges for the seat by the window so he can lay the box upon his lap for the ride around the streets of southern Seattle before rounding back around to Pike Place. The donuts maintain their warmth all the way there, even with all of the stops here and there en route there.  
The hotel is up the block from the outdoor marketplace, right up the hill; lucky for Dan, the bus stop sits right across the street from the front door of the hotel. He passes through a small bunch of passersby while still cradling the box in his arms as though it's a silver platter.  
He opens the front door with his right hip and almost stumbles inside of the lobby. Joey is nestled down on the lumpy faded recliner on the left side of the room with what appears to be a newspaper upon his chest. His head is tilted back against the top of the couch and his eyes are closed in a doze: a loose, spiraled strand of his inky black hair spans over the bridge of his nose and onto the corner of his mouth. His slender hands rest upon the newspaper as though he had just read something so lovely.  
Dan strides over to him, still holding the box with both arms, and reaches up to his knee with his left foot. He taps on Joey's knee when he loses his balance.  
"Joey," he calls out, regaining his composure and catching the box before he drops it. Joey groans inside of his throat but he doesn't wake up. Dan searches about the room for a spot to place the box down so he can better wake Joey: the one thing he notices is the actual wooden floor underneath him.  
He doesn't have much other choice; he stoops down and sets it down there, right next to the base of the recliner. He stands back upright and shakes Joey.  
"Hey," he calls out again. "Hey, dude."  
He finally stirs awake, blinking several times so his large earthy brown eyes come back into focus to behold the sight of the stubby little guitarist before him.  
"What's up?" Joey's voice breaks as he glances around him: they're the sole people in that tiny warm room. Dan stoops back down again to pick up the box.  
"The best breakfast you'll ever indulge in this side of the Mississippi," he declares.  
"Oh, shit." Joey sets the newspaper down on the arm of the chair, and then he lifts the lid off of the box. His face lights up at the sight of the fiery red donuts.  
"Gonna tell ya this right now, though," Dan begins, "they're made with chili pepper flakes so they've got bit of an extra bite to them."  
"Wow. These are gorgeous." Joey picks up the one closest to him by the sides with two hands. He holds it in his left palm for a brief moment before picking it up with two fingers plus his thumb. Dan watches him take a bite with his eyes closed.  
"Whoa," he remarks with his mouth full; he brings his free hand to his mouth.  
"Unbelievable, right?"  
"Oh, my God. I'm glad I'm sitting down because—holy hell."  
"The quintessential thing to drink with a glass of cold milk."  
"Hell yeah, it is." Joey swallows and opens his mouth as though he's out of breath. Even over his olive skin, Dan makes out the sight of a soft blush blooming in his cheeks. "Damn. I'd like to have that whenever I'm playing hockey all night and need something to keep me going to the morning."  
Dan chuckles at that and bows his head forward. Footsteps on the stairs behind them catches his ear, and Scott, in all of his long lush dark hair to accompany his heavy, thick dark eyebrows, enters the room right then.  
"Scott, you've gotta try these donuts Danny brought for us," Joey advises him as he holds his donut back up to his lips. "They're—They're fucking incredible."  
Dan turns around for Scott to see them for himself and his eyes widen at the sight of the bright red glaze on top.  
"Wow," he notes, picking up one from the corner. He takes a bite and stares at the inside as though he had eaten something shocking.  
"Damn. Like a punch of a party in the mouth."  
"Are Frankie and Charlie up?" asks Dan.  
"I think so. My compliments to the baker who made these. Bloody hell—"  
"Funny you say that," he begins, returning to Joey for the lid, "because she offered to come here to meet all of us."  
"Really?" Joey raises his eyebrows at that.  
"Yeah. She's—She's quite the looker, if I might say so myself."  
"You invited a girl you just met to come meet us?" Scott laughs as he takes another bite.  
"Well, she said she's a baker and she'd be willing to give us what we're coming for. If it's to get food in our stomachs and not a five-way orgy into our pants, I think we'll be fine, Scott."  
"Give us what we're coming for?" Joey echoes.  
"Yeah. This was on her. I didn't even tell her we have like no money, either. So maybe—just maybe—it's a sign, you guys."


	3. Chapter 3

"What was this baker's name?" asks Scott.  
Frank and Charlie had awakened the few minutes beforehand and now the five of them are congregated together in the lobby of the hotel. Scott perched himself on the arm of the chair, right next to Joey's shoulder, while Frank and Charlie dragged up two smaller, more spindly chairs; Dan took his seat on the floor between Joey and Charlie's feet, and crossed his legs to round out the circle: he's holding the box in his lap with the lid sitting atop to keep the final two donuts fresh. The other four each had had two out of the dozen in the box: the remaining two are spares in the moment hunger strikes any of them during the day.  
"Valentina," answers Dan. "She has rich black hair and a couple of tattoos on her arms. She's a total doll."  
Frank cranes his neck for a closer look at the top of the lid of the box.  
"Smell the Magic," he reads aloud with his mouth full.  
"It's down on the southern side of town," Dan explains, gesturing out the door behind him. "Had to take the next bus all the way around the neighborhoods and everything. But it's this sleek little bakery and everything in there looks so intricate and delicious. I'm getting hungry again just thinking about it. She told me she gets off at eleven, and she'll be coming here to meet all of us."  
He rests the box down on the floor in the middle of them as though they're surrounding a campfire.  
"She kept looking at me like I was hot stuff, too," he adds.  
"Maybe she thinks that," Joey points out.  
"I dunno... I definitely feel it. I felt it when she slipped in front of me and hovered in front of my face. We'll have to wait and see when she comes here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give me kudos, give me comments, give me that which I desire God damn it.


	4. Chapter 4

"Only problem with those donuts is they leave the weirdest aftertaste in your mouth," Charlie remarks as he pats down his kinky wavy hair atop his head. He takes a seat on the inner edge of one of the twin beds, right over the royal blue sleeping bag down on the carpet. Joey's seated on the one closest to the window and the radiator and singing Journey's "Separate Ways" to himself in a soft voice.  
"Yeah, I'll say," adds Frank, delving through his travel bag down on the floor next to the radiator; he takes out a small box of spearmint chewing gum and hands Charlie a piece, and then pops one into his mouth for himself.  
It's at about a quarter to eleven o'clock, after having returned to their cramped hotel room. On the other side of the room, Dan runs a hairbrush through his soft hair to smooth it out a bit more, and then he spritzes a kiss of his cheap but clean-smelling cologne underneath his arms, much to Frank and Charlie's amusement.  
"What? I'll admit that I wanna impress her," he scoffs at them, setting down his bottle on the top of the dresser, right next to the pink donut box.  
"So, like—what is she gonna do?" asks Scott as he steps out of the bathroom and gives his hair a gentle toss back from his shoulder. "Is she gonna come up here and give us what for or what?"  
"I dunno, to be honest. But I'll go down and meet up with her and ask her if she wants to come here to meet you guys."  
"Well, if she's the one who made those donuts, my compliments to 'er!" Scott declares with a raise of his thick eyebrows.  
"Good luck, _oh Danny boy_ ," Joey sings from the other side of the room, and Frank and Charlie laugh out loud once again.  
Dan fetches up a sigh and heads back out of the room, and back down to the lobby. He's the sole person in there, and thus he slips his hands into his jeans pockets and waits.  
But as she had promised, Valentina arrives at the hotel shortly after eleven, still donned in her bright red apron, which she has under her fitted black leather jacket, and with her hair tousled back around the side of her neck. She enters the front lobby with her sunglasses still perched upon her nose and her purse slung over her shoulder. She removes her sunglasses and shoots Dan a welcoming grin.  
"Hi," she greets him, opening her arms for him.  
"Hey, doll," he returns the favor and embraces her; the aroma of donuts and muffins lingers in her hair at the back of her head. She lets go to give the lobby a good long look.  
"Forgot how ramshackle this place is," she remarks, returning her gaze to him. "You guys should be staying at the Rockstar down by Pike Place."  
"If only," he replies with a shrug, "this was the one place we could afford, to be honest."  
"Oh?" She raises her eyebrows.  
"Yeah. That's the life of being on tour, though. Anyways, you wanna come meet the boys?"  
"Please! I can't wait to meet your band."  
He leads her back to their room and pushes open the door. Frank and Charlie, who had been seated on the edge of the bed next to Scott's feet and thus began stuffing more pieces of gum into their mouths, turn around for a look at her, and the wads of gum almost fall right out of their agape mouths onto the shabby bedspread.  
"That's Frank—or Frankie as we all like to call him," Dan introduces to the lush haired one on the left; "and that's Charlie."  
"Nephew and uncle—in that order," replies Charlie in a near-absent tone of voice; he almost gags on the large wad of gum in his mouth and he brings a hand up to catch himself.  
"Nephew and uncle, really?" Valentina echoes, taking her purse off of her shoulder and stepping towards the dresser.  
"And that's Scott," Dan gestures around the wall separating the room from the bathroom; Scott, who's reclined back against the headboard, raises his eyebrows at the sight of her.  
"He- _llo_ ," he proclaims, leaning forward for a better look at her.  
"And I'm Joey!" Joey shifts around for a wave at her.  
"And that's Joey over there," Frank fills in for Dan with his mouth full.  
"Five guys crammed in this tiny little room?" she chuckles, pressing her hands to her hips. "My goodness!"  
"Four of us sleep head to toe, one of us sleeps on the floor here," Scott joins in, gesturing down to the sleeping bag.  
Frank says something but he put an awful lot of gum into his mouth. Valentina brings her lips closer to Dan's ear.  
"What," she asks in a hushed voice, "is with—the gum."  
He shrugs in response to her.  
"I dunno, to be honest. Anyways, could you hang tight for a second? I've gotta see a man about a horse."  
"Gladly! I'll make myself at home here."  
Dan doubles back into the tiny bathroom and pushes the door closed behind him.  
"Um, uh... have a seat!" Scott offers her as Frank and Charlie try and catch the lumps of gum before they fall right out of their mouths. Joey swings his right leg onto the top of the bed so he's facing her.  
"Here, come sit by me," he offers her, patting on the other side of the bed. "I don't bite, I promise." He shows her a shy little smile, which brings attention to the minute hole in the right side of his teeth and the tip of his Roman nose. Valentina giggles as she takes the spot on the foot, right next to Joey.  
"Well, aren't you just too adorable for words," she teases him.  
"Adorable? Me? No way."  
"You are. You're quite adorable."  
"Don't let the hole in my teeth distract you," he retorts.  
"I think it's charming."  
"There ain't nothing charming about getting hit in the head with a hockey puck," he points out.  
"Ooh, hockey player! Don't beat me up."  
"Nah. You really gotta piss me off to even so much as get a rise out of me."  
"Patient hockey player. Never heard of such a thing, but—" She shows him the tip of her tongue, there on the edge of her teeth. "—I can dig it, though." She clears her throat as she tucks a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.  
"Anyways, does Mr. Joey have a last name?"  
"Belladonna. It's actually Bellardini but I like Belladonna better. Belladonna as in... the belladonna across the bed from me."  
"Don't flatter yourself, Joe," Scott cracks.  
Charlie says something with his mouth full of gum. Frank brings his hand back up to his lips to keep himself from gagging.  
"What? It was a compliment!" Joey insists. Valentina stifles another giggle.  
"You guys are funny."  
"We fry oar fest," Charlie confesses through his full mouth.  
"We rere blue," Frank adds, also through his full mouth.  
But she turns her attention back to Joey and his right hand resting on the bedspread next to her hip; she eyes his left hand upon the top of his narrow thigh. He's quite thin, almost too thin, and the fresh, tightly curled tendrils of inky black hair all over his head add to his slenderness. He's bare, almost raw, and childlike in his whole look and as she follows the sinewy shape of his arms all the way back up to his broad face and his deep earthy brown eyes, she locks onto him.  
The thinner the boy, the larger his appetite, as she has often heard.  
Dan ate up that donut in the shop earlier and he's quite thin himself, but Joey's on another level.  
"So are ya comin' to our show tomorrow night?" Scott inquires from behind her.  
"Hm? Me?" She doubles back to find his back up against the headboard, right behind Charlie and Frank.  
"Yeah."  
"Tomorrow at eight, right?" she recalls from earlier.  
"Yeah."  
"But I don't have a ticket, though."  
"You don't have a ticket?" She turns back around to see the look of shock on Joey's face.  
"I don't."  
"We can always sneak you in!" Dan calls from the bathroom; his voice sounds hollow from the wall next to Scott.  
"Yeah, but if people see 'er, though?" Scott calls back through the wall.  
"They won't."  
"How do you know?"  
"We'll smuggle her into the backstage area and we'll tell Jonny and everyone helping out that she's my girlfriend!"  
"Dan, just get your tiny ass back out here and tell us so we don't have to yell through the fucking wall," Frank blurts out, holding the wad of gum in his fingers.  
"I'm on the toilet!"  
"Oh. Well—that makes sense." He flashes Valentina a sly grin, his teeth gleaming at her as though made of pearl.  
"All that gum makes Frankie a star," she teases him.  
Charlie takes out the heap of gum from his mouth.  
"And Mr. Charlie, too," she adds. She clears her throat again.  
"So I have to pretend that I'm Dan's girlfriend in order for me to get in?"  
"Yeah, because if people see us taking fans backstage, there runs the risk of more people wanting to come backstage," Scott explains in a single breath. "I'm sure you've seen the Moore, too. You don't sound like us."  
"I have, yeah. And nah, I'm from a little town outside of Portland called Lake Oswego."  
"Funny, I'm from a place called Oswego," Joey chimes in, and she turns back to him for an eager look.  
"Really?"  
"Upstate New York. Right on the shores of beautiful Lake Ontario about an hour outside of Syracuse. I'm a dumb Injun hick compared to these guys."  
"You're not a hick!" Dan shouts from the bathroom; the sound of running water catches their ear.  
"Yeah, and you're not dumb, either, Joe," adds Scott, gesturing at him.  
"'Country boy' is more like it," Valentina corrects him.  
"Yeehaw," Joey says with a sly smirk on his face.  
"But he is right about one thing, though," Scott points out, "we're all from New York City. I'm the jack Jew boy from Queens, Danny hails from Rockland County just right outside the City, and Pete and Repeat here are both from the Bronx."  
The bathroom door swings open and Dan steps back out into the room. He smooths his hair on the top of his head as he flashes her a grin.  
"Alright!" he declares, rubbing his hands together. "So—shall we, m'lady?"  
"Where you guys goin'?" Charlie asks.  
"I was wondering if Miss Valentina would like a bite to eat, like a bit o' bunch or somethin'."  
"Actually, I was going to ask," she begins, glancing back at Joey and then at Charlie, Frank, and Scott once more, "if I could take all five of you fellas out to eat. You're all crowded into this little room like a bunch of sardines and I'm the one with money, too."  
"Well, that's kind of you!" Scott declares, swinging his legs towards the edge of the bed, right next to Frank.  
"Gives us an excuse to walk around Sea-Town a little more, too," adds Dan, smoothing back his hair a bit more. Frank and Charlie stand to their feet to dispose of their wads of gum given the aftertaste had left their gullets; Scott slips his Docs onto his feet and climbs to his feet.  
"Oh, and by the way," Joey pipes up again as they all file out of the room. Valentina glances back at him as he brings up the rear; he picks up his room key from the top of the dresser and slips it into his back pocket.  
"Thank you for the donuts."  
"Oh, yeah, those were—" Charlie swallows and catches himself. "—those were unreal."  
She shows Joey a little grin as they congregate out in the hallway.  
"It's my pleasure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated on whether or not I should post this because I know it won't be seen or given kudos or commented on or... anything like that. If you see this, please do those things and I might keep going with this.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Creme tangerine and Montelimar,  
>  a ginger sling with a pineapple heart.  
> A coffee dessert, yes, you know it's good news,  
> but you'll have to have them all pulled out  
> after the Savoy truffle!"_  
> -"Savoy Truffle", The Beatles

"I drove but," Valentina begins, slinging her purse over her shoulder, "there's really no way I can fit all five of you guys into my car, though." She shows Joey a friendly grin as she slips past him there at the doorway; she had taken a whiff of Dan's cologne when she slipped past him in the bakery. Here, she examines Joey's slim, svelte body, from the black Chuck Taylors on his feet and all the way up to his knees and narrow thighs, to his toned body and some of his long, flyaway black curls as they made their way over his shoulder. He shifts his weight there as he props the door open for her, but she doesn't notice as she walks by him onto the bright, sunlit sidewalk outside.  
"Well... do you have any place in mind like close by, though?" Scott asks her once back within her earshot: the late morning sun casts down onto his head and makes the top of his silky dark hair glow like a luxurious golden crown.  
"Well, we _are_ two blocks up from Pike Place," Valentina points out, putting her sunglasses back onto her face. "And there's everything from breweries to places for fish n' chips. All manner of things down there, from Russian pirozhki to some of the best pie this side of the Cascade Mountains. There's also a bar right over by the Moore, if you guys would like a little something more refreshing. They've got plenty of scrumptious food there."  
"God, you're killin' me!" Joey jeers at her with a playful grin on his face.  
"Well, lead the way, dear Val," Frank coaxes her once they're all outside. Dan sidles up next to her and raises his elbow for her.  
"M'lady?" He flashes a wink at her.  
"Oh, of course!" And they hook elbows so as to begin feigning their relationship prior to the show on this walk down Second Avenue. Passersby need not know of her status other than the one proving she's dating their guitarist. Indeed, upon crossing the street, a few onlookers on the other side have their eye on Dan and Valentina as they lead the whole group along the crest of the hill over Pike Place, the long outdoor market perched on a shelf of land overlooking a sliver of the cool blue-gray Puget Sound.  
"The original Starbucks is over here, isn't it?" asks Charlie over the noise of the street.  
"That it is!" she replies. "It's on the corner about three blocks over down the hill—" Her voice trails off but they continue to walk together around the side of the lovely, but nondescript Moore Theater towards the restaurant on the inside.  
Joey once again lunges towards the front to hold the smoked glass door for her and Dan.  
"Why, thank you," she politely tells him; this time however, her sunglasses block her eyes from the sight of her undressing him from head to toe.  
"Thank you, Joey," Dan chimes in with a nod of his head.  
The six of them file inside of the cool and dim lit Moore Hotel; she leads them to the quiet Mexican restaurant, quiet given they had just opened their doors for the day. She and Dan take their seats at the heavy black wooden table closest to the large window looking out to the city. Joey slinks down into the spindly chair to her right while Frank, Charlie, and Scott round out the other side of them.  
Given it's barely lunch time, the bar hasn't opened yet but neither one of them mind given they're here for the food.  
"Order whatever you please," she tells Joey after he asked her what she thinks he should have. "Besides, I'm paying so have at it."  
Indeed, once their waitress returns to the table, they each ask for cups of coffee first and foremost, but Valentina knows they all can have more than that. She eyes Scott on the other side of the table as he pours a bit of cream into his coffee: her eyes caress over the tops of his fingers as he tips the stubby silver carafe of cream into the rich near black coffee. She directs her gaze to Frank and Charlie and their packets of sugar. Again, with the sugar given they had had those wads of gum in their mouths when she wedged into their tiny room.  
But she watches Dan as he lifts the white bone china mug to his lips for a slow, decadent sip. He enjoyed those donuts: indeed, they all did.  
She knows they're going to enjoy this round of lunch here.  
And they do: when the food arrives, neither of them hesitate to dive right into their rice and beans as if it's their last meal. She has her eye on Joey, who shovels his Spanish rice into his mouth with both his fork and his spoon.  
"My goodness," she remarks, bringing a free hand to her chest.  
"Yeah, we're hungry boys alright," Dan jokes to her with a nudge of his elbow.  
 _Packed into that tiny room and practically starving to death_ , she thinks as she watches Charlie scoop up a large crispy dark green sliver of his _chile relleno_ , accompanied with beans, rice, and melted cheese. Perhaps those donuts evoked something in them: they all seem to be eating as though they have never seen a morsel of food in years. Frank tips his head back as he drops an extra crispy piece of his chicken _flauta_ into his mouth. As she herself eats up her _fajitas_ , complete with the red and green bell peppers and a series of fresh tortillas, Valentina pictures crafting a feast for them, all just for them, at some point on their tour.  
"Is it okay if we have dessert?" Joey asks her at one point. She glances over at his fork hovering next to his dark lips: the tines are holding a rather large bite of enchilada that's still steaming as though it came straight out of the oven.  
"Dessert? Of course!" she declares, taking a drink of her water. "Eat! Eat! You're skin and bones!"  
"Skin and bones, ha!" Joey laughs at her. He then asks the waitress for a glass of horchata, much to where Scott flashes him a smirk.  
"Well, look at you, askin' for some horchata," he teases him as he digs at his _huevos rancheros_.  
"'Ay, sometimes a guy just wants some cinnamon with his rice," Joey retorts as he takes another bite of enchilada.  
"I'll have one, too!" adds Dan. The waitress flashes him a thumbs-up and that's when Valentina turns to him.  
"So tell me about yourself," he starts, picking up another bite of refried beans.  
"Well," she begins, "I was born in a little town on the beaches of California, called Ventura, about half an hour out of downtown LA. I went to elementary school in Carson City and then I grew up in Fresno. I also lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico for about two years."  
"How'd you end up up here?" he asks.  
"When my parents and I lived in Carson City, we went on a vacation up to this town called Redding—up on the north side of the Central Valley—and one day we went all the way up to Mount Shasta and Mount Lassen, the real remote and volcanic part of California and then we doubled back towards Eureka and the southern part of Oregon. I was about seven years old at the time but I absolutely loved the sight of the Northwest, how everything's all green and calm compared to the desert, y'know?"  
"Oh, absolutely."  
"When I was in high school and taking art classes, I looked at going to school in Portland and I visited for a while, and absolutely fell in love with the city. I came up here to Seattle for a full day as part of the visit and loved it even more."  
"What kinda school we talkin' 'bout?" Scott joins in. "Like, art school?"  
"Oh, yeah. I want to get my master's in studio art at some point. I have no idea when I'll get it but I am sure of it, though. I want to live the ultimate artist's life, in a commune and sharing my work with the world. I really liked glass work and ceramics, in particular, like one goal I have in mind is my own stained glass shop. And add to that, the Oregon Coast is like the be all, end all for glaziers. Problem is I haven't been able to use my hands and make stuff since high school, though."  
"Why's that?" asks Joey; the waitress then returns with his and Dan's glasses of ice cold creamy white horchata, sprinkled with cinnamon.  
"My parents split in my senior year, a couple of months right before graduation, and it just—" She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "—it just took the life right out of me." She opens her eyes again to witness the softened look on each of their faces. "So when I graduated, I gave up the dream and ran off to New Mexico to live with my dad until I could find my way up here. Even though my dream of being an artist was put on hold, I didn't want to give up on the Northwest. I wanted to come up here before Rainier or Hood or Shasta blow their tops. Luckily for me, I finally got my job at Smell the Magic after he and I came up here for another visit. Haven't looked back."  
"So your dad's still down in New Mexico?" Dan continues as he takes a sip of horchata.  
"Yeah, but he's trying to get back up to Carson City, though, just because he loved it there when I was little. He'll also be closer to me, too."  
"How 'bout your mom?" Frank joins in.  
"She lives down in Salem, just south of Portland. I keep meaning to go and visit her but she and I both have been so busy with work, though. It's bit of a drive after all."  
"Well, I hope you can make your way into art school, though," Dan tells her as he takes another bite of beans.  
"Yeah, me, too," adds Joey, "that'd be so cool for you to be the college girl and the star baker on top of it."  
"I also chose Smell the Magic because I could see it's rising up in the Northwest as the bakery to work at," she continues with a sly smirk on her face. "Rising up, like how I imagine you guys to do so at some point."  
She glances over at Dan, who shows her a knowing glance. They're still on par for the plan tomorrow night.  
Soon, the six of them clean their plates and Joey and Dan drink down their horchatas all the way to the bottoms of their glasses. The former sets down his glass and runs his fingers through his disheveled hair.  
"Phew, stick a fork in me, I'm done," he declares, placing a hand on his flat stomach.  
"Me, too, Joe," Charlie joins in, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin.  
"Same here," says Frank, taking one last swig of his ice water.  
"That was damn good," Scott proclaims. "Probably the best rancheros I've had... ever."  
"That's sayin' a lot, too," adds Dan.  
"Yeah!"  
Valentina examines the relaxed expressions on their faces and their bodies, and she knows, right as she takes out the rather large brick of money from her black leather wallet decorated in silver and red roses, the same large brick of money that sticks out to both Dan and Joey as she makes her way to the front of the restaurant, that she has each of them right where she wants them.


	6. Chapter 6

"So... shall we retire back to the room or shall we head on down to the park?"

It's a little past twelve thirty and Valentina has led them back out of the Moore and onto the sidewalk: even though she herself has had a great deal to eat on par with lunch, she bears the feeling well inside of her stomach. She can still taste the kiss of coffee at the back of her mouth accompanied with the bite and sizzle of her fajitas, and she knows she did well. It only makes sense given she has been working well with the whole food thing. Tasting her baked goods prior to putting them out on display for the world to see as well as scrounging for anything in the world of poverty has given her the experience to eat to her heart's fullest desire.

The boys, meanwhile, are not so lucky. Charlie steps out of the restaurant only to crouch down to the sidewalk and lay down on his back. Frank yawns and raises his arms over his head to ease the immense feeling inside of his stomach. Scott runs his fingers through his dark hair and lets out a long low whistle, even though he knows it won't do too much to alleviate the feeling. Dan and Joey have their arms around each other's shoulders and their free hands upon their stomachs as though they're in agony.

"Don't really—" Scott stifles a burp in his throat and brings a hand up to his mouth. "—mmm, pardon me. Don't really wanna do much of walkin', to be honest."

"I'm about ready for a nap," Charlie confesses.

"Jesus—" Joey mutters as he lets go of Dan to rub his belly with both hands. But Valentina is more than pleased given she helped them out for a moment. But now is the beginning. She keeps an eye on Dan, Frank, and Joey in particular as she walks them back to their hotel room up the block.

Dan is totally silent on the way back. He keeps his head bowed enough so she can't peer into those brilliant blue eyes, however she can make out the rich blush forming over his cheeks. Frank yawns twice more before reaching the front door, while Joey keeps one hand on the upside of his belly and the other to fiddle with a few strands of curly hair on the side of his head.

Valentina leads them into the lobby and then towards their room. Joey hiccups and giggles for a moment before he reaches into his pocket for the room key. He gives his hair a gentle toss back from the side of his neck before he slides it through the slit and opens the door. He staggers inside first, followed by Charlie and Scott. Joey collapses onto the bed on the far side of the room, right onto his side, and unbuttons his pants and lifts up the hem of his shirt in the process.

"Fuck—me—sideways," he groans out, closing his eyes.

"Like your enchiladas, Joe?" Charlie teases him as he crawls onto the top of the bed closest to the door.

"Just—fucking—" But his dark lips are left agape part of the way to better breathe. Joey raises his knees as though he's about to perform a sit-up but instead lets his right one fall to the side. He lifts his arms up over his head to show off his armpits. Valentina slings her purse over the back of the chair in time to catch a view of his crotch and the inner seams of his jeans. She makes note of the delicate-looking skin underneath his chin and his upper arms, and the even more delicate coffee-colored skin on his waist, peeking out from underneath his shirt: a little line of fine black hair sprouts from the rim of his belly button and follows down to the top of the zipper.

She watches Scott crawl up onto the bed, about a foot away from him and with his head pointed the other way, and lay down on his side, facing away from Joey. Meanwhile, Charlie has fallen asleep sitting up on the other bed: his back is pressed against the headboard. Dan and Frank are both at the foot there: the former has lay down onto his back while the latter is taking off his shoes.

"Suddenly I wish I had that wad of gum on me again," he laments, only to follow it up with another yawn.

"Why is that?" she asks, folding her arms over her chest. Frank swallows as he undoes the bow on his left foot.

"You don't wanna know," he corrects himself.

"Maybe I do," she points out.

"You don't."

"I do."

"Frankie, just admit it," Scott blurts out, his voice muffled by the bedspread. Joey and Charlie have both dozed off while the slurred tone of his voice suggests a proximity to it.

"Okay." Frank removes his shoes which leaves him in his socks; Valentina lowers her gaze to Dan's knees on his right. Like Joey, he spread his legs apart so as to reveal his crotch and the inseam of his jeans. But, once he reaches into his travel bag for that box of gum and takes out another piece for himself, Frank lifts his hand to beckon her closer to the bed.

But when she does, he stands to his feet and ducks toward the bathroom. She follows him, knowing the other four could catch them at any given moment. But neither one of them moves a muscle. Frank yawns yet again as he leads her into the tiny but cozy bathroom.

She quietly gasps and closes the door behind her. They're engulfed in darkness for a moment before she clicks on the light.

"So," he begins, chewing the gum with haste, "you know how Joey asked if we can get dessert?"

"How could I forget?"

He pushes his hair behind his shoulders and takes a seat on the edge of the bathtub. He spreads his thighs as if inviting her inside. She raises her eyebrows at him.

"Ohhhhh, you want dessert-dessert?" she inquires, lowering her voice to a near whisper.

"Yeah. This is the one place to have privacy, too." Frank gestures for her to inch in closer to him. Such a move out of the blue!

On one hand, there is in fact a small sliver of her telling her to hold off until Dan wakes up: he was the first to have eaten the red donuts after all. She worked her way into his stomach first. She could sense it between them there in the bakery.

But then again, Frank has a look in his brown eyes, a certain conspicuous twinkle, one that's begging for her to move in closer, to slide in between those thighs and let him have a slice of the world's best cherry pie. The four of them have also fallen asleep out there. The only way she can have her way with Dan is if she blows him to wake him up; the same goes for Joey. He chews his gum at a quickened pace and thus, she can sense it.

Careful not to bring attention to herself, she kicks off her shoes, and then unbuttons her jeans and lets them fall down her legs towards her ankles. He raises his eyebrows at the sheer sight of her lacy black panties. She's about to untie her apron when Frank lifts a hand to stop her.

"Keep it on," he encourages her in a husky voice. "The glaze below your waist is what I'm interested in."

Running the tip of her tongue along the top of her lip, she steps out from her crumpled jeans and pads closer to him. Frank chews his gum some more before turning towards the trash can next to the bathtub to spit it out. Using two fingers, he peels the band of her panties to the side so they reveal a part of her hip first. He tugs the other side down to show off her bare crotch, right underneath the flap of her red apron. He lifts the flap and she spreads her legs for him.

"Bon appetit, baby," she declares, and without another word, Frank kisses the inside of her thighs first before moving up. His tongue slides into her, all warm and damp to help her feel even more wet. Valentina tips her head back and lets out a gasp at the feel of his tongue. Her chest rises and falls in steady continuum as Frank's tongue slithers and slides in between her parted lips.

He closes his eyes and lets his fingers creep up the side of her thigh, but Valentina smacks the back of his hand.

"Bad boy," she scolds him.

A knock on the door halts them both right square in their tracks.

“Frankie? Val? You guys in there?”

“Who is it?” she calls out.

“Scott. I really gotta take a piss.”

She returns to Frank, who’s already taken his tongue out from her and is now gazing up at her with those deep dark eyes.

“Party time’s over, I guess,” she whispers to him with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Until next time,” he vows to her as she steps away: she stoops down to scoop up her panties from the floor and puts them on. Frank then climbs to his feet as she picks up her jeans from the floor to put them on. He throws open the door for her and they’re met with Scott there in the nook, with his head bowed and his arms behind his back. He then lifts his gaze for a look at them.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she assures him as she steps out of the bathroom.

“Sure,” he says with a smirk. Valentina stumbles towards the foot of the bed, where Dan is still sprawled onto his back there by Charlie’s outstretched legs. Both men are sound asleep.

Frank fetched up a sigh and ducks out of the room into the hallway, thus leaving her alone with these two sleeping men and Joey, who’s still in the same position as before. Valentina strides past Dan and Charlie, only stopping to examine the inseams of the former’s jeans for a brief second. She imagines herself blowing him and caressing his cock at some point in the future: perhaps when he’s full again and wide awake, showing her those bright blue irises, she’ll do it.

She continues onward to the other bed for a closer look at that exposed sliver of skin on Joey’s waist. Even though he’s dozed off, she sidles up next to him, between his right side and the window sill, and reaches down with her fingertips for a gentle caress of his skin.

His skin is in fact delicate, and warm from eating so much. Even though he is quite slim and svelte, she senses a softness to him, a gentle side on par with Frank’s velvet tongue but one that wants to entice and embrace her. He doesn’t stir at the feel of her fingers raking over his skin, all around his belly button and underneath. She has a feeling with Dan, and she knows that he wants to know her more, but Joey draws her in by doing nothing more than laying there.

She lifts her gaze for a look at Dan himself, but he’s still laying there in his snooze. The bathroom door opens and she yanks her hand back as though she had been burned. She hovers before the window to make it look as though she’s adjusting the curtain.

Scott clears his throat and she turns for a glance back at him.

“I guess it’s nap time,” she remarks in an almost singsong voice.

“That it is,” he replies, yawning and running his fingers through his hair once more.

“Tomorrow at eight,” she recalls, rounding the foot of the bed to fetch her purse.

“Tomorrow at eight! We’ll be waitin’ for ya, baby doll.” He puts his arms around her for a brief moment, and then she scoops up her purse and slings it over her shoulder. As she leaves the room, she spots Frank striding down the hallway towards her and carrying a white container of ice.

“I’ll catch you later, Mr. Velvet Tongue,” she says with a wink.

“Gladly,” he retorts, also with a wink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need a spankin’, someone spank me, I’ve been a bad, bad girl


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Meet you downstairs in the bar and hurt,  
>  Your rolled up sleeves in your skull t-shirt,  
> You say 'What did you do with him today?',  
> And sniffed me out like I was Tanqueray."_  
> -"You Know I'm No Good", Amy Winehouse

As she had promised them the day before, Valentina had set aside a full outfit for her date with them at their show at the Moore Theater that night at eight o'clock sharp; she returned to the outfit resting on her bed once she stepped through the apartment door at two-thirty. She had showered down shortly after walking in through the door: sure, she stripped away that lovely baked smell from her hair, but she wanted to look good for the five of them, and in particular Dan. After brushing her long rich black hair towards the back of her head, she decided to give her crotch a little shaving in any left-field case she seduced him enough, and she and Dan had a moment alone together.  
She rubbed a small bit of soothing lotion around the bare skin, and used the tips of her fingers to give her bare and exposed lips a little good luck touch beforehand. She washed off her hand before slipping on a clean pair of black panties and running a hairbrush through her hair one last time before putting on her jeans and her low-cut black blouse, one that would show off her tattoos.  
She left her tiny apartment overlooking the shores of Lake Oswego at about four-thirty. Even as she strode back down the walkway to the parking lot to climb back into her car, the thought of Joey hailing from Oswego rang through her mind. She even ruminated over the whole thing as she made her way to the interstate to head on back up to Seattle. It could've been from the fact she shaved and the lotion only did so much to keep her skin cool, or perhaps it was that thought that made her feel warm from within.  
She had only been looking for an easy one to knock out of the park, to seduce and seek into him through his stomach, but there was something about each of these men that forced her to look over that very thought. Granted, she still maintains that sentiment: she is simply not looking for anything real, other than to find her way into their minds like something they can't live without. She has the money and the way around the kitchen.  
Valentina arrives at the Moore Theater right as the sun hangs low over the highest reaches of the Olympic Peninsula: she takes the same spot as she did the day before at the curb in front of their hotel.  
Putting on her sunglasses and slinging her purse over her shoulder, she strides up the sidewalk towards the theater. She's the one person for blocks without a bit of extra teasing in her hair or any sort of bright colors, perhaps the one chick for blocks dressed in black and looking as though she's ready to give someone else a sweet seduction behind closed doors. But she's not here for just anyone: she's here to see Dan and his band, right after she had treated them to that hearty lunch the day before. It's only the beginning as she pokes her head around the corner of the back alleyway.  
Dan himself is in fact huddled before a trio of tall smooth black boxes with locks on the side before the back door: he's holding a pad of yellow paper and scribbling something down. There's an odd yelling coming from the room behind him, one that sounds as though the person is in a great deal of pain.  
"Dan?" she calls out.  
"Oh, hey! I was wondering when you'd show up." He shows her a friendly grin once she enters within view.  
"Joe and I were absolutely dying to have a bite to eat all day today," he tells her, giving her a gentle little peck on the cheek.  
"Did you not eat anything?" She gapes at him, shocked.  
"There was food at the hotel this morning, but it sucked, though," Dan points out. "Watch your step when you go inside here. I made all of those amps there on the floor, by the way."  
"You _made_ these amps?"  
"Partially, but yeah. I've always been into the most intricate of work—"  
"Goes double with his playing, too," Joey joins in from the room behind them; he sets his hands on the edges of the door frame as if he's blocking out the pathway inside. He had tousled his inky black curls back from the side of his face and his neck, the latter of which is emphasized by his sleeveless black shirt with a low plunging neckline, so low that it shows off a great deal of his chest; add to this, he has on skin-tight black jeans and scuffed black Chuck Taylors. Like a stickman with an odd, sensual curve to his hips and thighs.  
"Was that you making those noises?" she asks him with a raise of her eyebrow.  
"Yeah, that's how I loosen up before singing my heart out, and—wait a minute. You heard me?"  
"I could hear you from the street," she chuckles at him. Dan laughs at that and Joey hunches his shoulders as if playing coy.  
"So you guys haven't eaten anything decent today?" she returns to the original subject.  
"Not really," replies Dan. "I was hopin'... maybe, just maybe, if you showed up early—and here you are, having showed up early—you could make us something for dinner real quick before the show."  
"Well, I'm gonna need something first to make you fellas something," she begins. Joey sets one hand onto his hip, and she flashes him a raised eyebrow and a playful smirk.  
"What do you think you're doin'?" she demands.  
"What?"  
"Come out here in your sleeveless shirt and jeans that are painted on," she scoffs at him.  
"I dunno, Val," Dan teases her. "I think Joe might have a little thing for ya."  
She eyes Joey with intent: the lotion doesn't mean anything at the moment with the sight of him before her, but regardless she keeps close to Dan, who continues to scribble things down on the pad of yellow lined paper. She undresses Joey with her eyes, starting with his feet and then making her way all along his legs to his hips and then his body.  
"What was that for?" he asks her with a smirk on his face.  
"What was what?" she retorts as if she had done nothing.  
"Checkin' me out," he teases her.  
"Pfff, you wish." She rolls her eyes at him, but this doesn't stop him from raising an eyebrow at her and showing her his tongue for a second before backing out of the doorway and into the room again. Valentina has her eye on the backs of Joey's thighs for a few seconds as he walks away.  
 _Such a smoldering hot stud_ , she laughs to herself. _Working quite well on him, I see_.  
She then directs her attention to Dan, whom of which, as far as she could anyway, is a more difficult specimen.  
"I should tell you this right now, Danny boy," she whispers into his ear. "I'm trouble."  
"Nonsense," he replies, lifting his gaze from his notes for a second.  
"No. I mean, I'm trouble."  
"Hey, just 'cause we all think you're hot stuff doesn't mean you're trouble. Now—what would you like to make for us, that is if... you know. You're up for it."  
"Well, let's see. I don't know how long your show's gonna be tonight but I'm assuming you fellas should eat up something hearty, something that'll stick to your ribs without giving you a stitch in your sides first. I'm thinking... something that's an homage to my staying in New Mexico for a bit. When I lived with my dad, he and I had these big fat homemade tamales whenever there wasn't much to eat at his place other than the obvious, and since it was Santa Fe, we often them accompanied with red and green chile peppers and sour cream."  
"I think we might have some of those frozen tamales in the dressing room here," Dan points out. "But I don't think we have chili peppers on hand, or sour cream for that matter."  
"Well—is what you're doing here important?"  
"What, this?" He gestures to the pad of paper in his hand.  
"Yeah."  
"I'm just taking some tech notes, a lot of shorthand and shit. Just some reminders and observations and stuff, and then when you walked up, I was looking it over one last time. Why, you want me to be your assistant or something?" He shows her a shy, cute smile, one that causes his blue eyes to cross a little bit.  
"I was thinkin' maybe you'd like to go grocery shopping with me. We are within range of Pike Place, so it's not like we're going very far. And I've made tamales enough to know them like the back of my hand. We won't be long and neither will they. But I wanna give you a little sneak peek into the dish _du jour_."  
He clicks his pen and tucks it behind his ear, and then he closes the notepad and sets it down on top of the tall black box behind him.  
"Count me in, m'lady," he beckons her, raising his elbow to her. She links up her arm with him, and unbeknownst to him, she has a trick up her sleeve.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"I thought it would be fun and games,  
>  (It would be fun and games)  
> instead it's all the same.  
> (It's all the same)  
> I want something to do:  
> need to feel the sickness in you.."_  
> -"Make Me Bad", Korn

The sun's final golden rays wash over the hillside as Dan and Valentina stride down the sidewalk alongside each other. He stops her at the corner before crossing the street; he sets his hand on her shoulder to halt her in place. From underneath the dark lenses of her sunglasses, she looks at him out of the corner of her eye with intent. He glances about the block first and then he lowers his hand to the back of her upper arm for a second, and then he moves his hand away from her. She raises her eyebrow at him as they cross the street together.  
The next row of buildings blocks out the sun and bathes them in shadow. She adjusts the strap of her purse over her shoulder and she knows she has enough money for the masa, the lard, the corn husks, and the sour cream: she won't receive her next paycheck in a couple of days, but she has it on hand.  
"So which way first?" asks Dan once they reach the web of faded, blackened bricks making up the pavement.  
"Well, over here are the veggies and produce and whatnot," she begins, gesturing to their right, "I'm gonna need some corn to encase the tamales and make the masa. And now for the million dollar question—" They step up onto the sidewalk in unison and he turns to her with his eyebrows raised in inquiry. "—chicken, beef, pork, or veggie?"  
"You mean like, on the inside?" he follows along. She slowly nods her head once she removes her sunglasses. A couple of people stride past them: the one closest to them flashes a thumbs-up at Dan. He nods and shows them an excited look in response.  
"Yeah, she's with me," he declares, gesturing to her. Valentina pats him on the shoulder to regain his attention.  
"Let's go with veggie," he suggests, "I don't really want ya to fuck around with raw meat in that little room. Yeah, there's a hot plate in there but—y'know."  
"Of course! And besides, it's not like I'm baking you guys a cake, either. Now if I remember correctly, the produce section is right up here, right behind you—" She gestures to the long stretches of wooden displays underneath the awning. Dan rubs his hands together as she leads him onward to all of the lush fresh fruit and vegetables there.  
The first things they spot there are the bushels of crisp red apples, stacked into neat pyramids on their shelves. She picks up the one on top and gives it a little sniff there at the stem. She can tell the apple is full of that sweet juice giving it its lovely taste. Dan turns his attention to the near-black avocados right after the apples. He spots the one on top and picks it out for himself, and holds onto the fullest part of the avocado there in his palm as if he's a hand model. When she turns her attention to it, he pulsates his fingers as if he's squeezing something soft.  
She likes to work with her hands and her fingers, and so does he.  
"That's a good-looking avocado you got there," she points out with another raise of her eyebrow. "You want some guacamole with your tamale?"  
"I don't see why not."  
She sets the apple back down on the shelf and turns her attention to the rows of ears of corn to the shelves to their left.  
"Ah! Here we are!"  
She lunges for the corn and takes a little hand basket for a few ears; meanwhile, Dan eyes the avocado in his hand for a second before returning his attention back to Valentina. He makes out the shape of her hips and the backs of her thighs, accentuated by her black pants, and then he returns to the avocado in his hand.  
Perhaps he's onto something, or perhaps it's just a part of his imagination, but perhaps there's something more here, something more to Valentina that meets the eye. But he keeps hold of the avocado as he joins her there at the ears of corn. He has to see where she's going with this.  
She picks out a handful of succulent ears of corn and then she moves on to the next display for a few red bell peppers. As she's searching for two bottles of salt and black pepper to add some more kick to the flavor to the masa to fill the inside of the tamales, Dan stops her right in place with a tap on her shoulder before one last display of produce.  
She turns her head to find square pits of dried tamarind and—  
"Chiles!" she declares, heading for the neighboring pit up the aisle, the one with the smooth, elongated rich green chili peppers, piled into a neat heap next to the dark green jalapenos and the ferocious orange habaneros. She saunters over to them for a closer look, only to find they're not the same fruits she found in Santa Fe.  
"Oh, wait, these are Anaheims."  
"What's the difference?" he asks her, slipping that one avocado into her basket.  
"Anaheims are strictly from outside of New Mexico. Makes sense after all. They're also not as hot, either—and you know, come to think of it, you guys might like these better because of that. They won't be so hard on your mouths or your stomachs. I'll get a few for you boys—"  
She picks out five of these peppers, giving each of them a squeeze to ensure that they are in fact good for the picking. Five, perhaps pertaining one for the each of them, and Dan can't help but make note of their elongated shape. He nibbles on his bottom lip as she puts one after the other into the basin of the basket, right next to the avocado. Once she has the fifth one picked out, he turns for a look over at the meat, the poultry, and of course, the seafood next to them. Beyond that, he can make out the squared shape of the refrigerators, the ones with the milk and butter, all manner of dairy.  
Valentina follows his gaze and she leads him past all of the beef, the chicken, and all manner of fish to the frozen part of the market, and picks out a can of sour cream and another one with lard. Dan spots a spice rack right next to them and, using two fingers, picks out a jar of pure white salt and another one with big ripe-looking black peppercorns.  
Once she has everything, she leads him to the register to pay for it all. Meanwhile, Dan lingers near the exit for a look onward at the darkening street before them. The Space Needle is around here somewhere, he knows that. He also knows that she's got something up her sleeve for them. He swears it's all fun and games at the moment, but there in fact resides a glimmer in her eye. Maybe it's the raised eyebrow pointed in his direction, and maybe it's the fact she has been so kind to them the past couple of days. But she has shown to them that she's not the kind of groupie one would find hanging out and fooling around with people like Motley Crue or Aerosmith. She's willing to help them out, and who can say no to that? Who can question that?  
He figures he has nothing to be suspicious of once she tucks her wallet back into her purse and picks up the paper sack filled with all of the makings, and strides over to him with a big beaming smile on her face.  
"Alright, we're gonna be eatin' lunch _and_ dinner!" he jokes as they make their way back toward the front of the market, which is now blanketed by shadow and the first glimmers of neon from the signs out front. She laughs at that as they return to the bricks and the crossing, the latter of which will take them back up the block to the Moore.  
Once they reach the back door of the theater, it's almost six-thirty, meaning she has to hustle to make these tamales for these five guys before they hit the stage. But she knows she can do it with just that ramshackle hot plate in the far corner, a small metal saucepan, and Joey's pocket knife.


	9. Chapter 9

Sparing no expense, Valentina takes her seat on a clean spot of the narrow bench on the far side of the room with the hot plate and the saucepan filled with water right before her small work space: Scott had fetched a pair of sporks from the hotel while she and Dan were down at the market. She straddles the bench so she can have a flat surface, which she used to slice up the ears of corn, of which she boils in the saucepan first before sloughing off the kernels to make the masa. Joey had taken a seat right next to her so she can use his smooth dark red pocket knife to cut up all of the produce.  
"God, those chili peppers smell good," he remarks as she begins slicing them in half and taking out the seeds, and chucking them into the small trash bin next to her left ankle: he watches her slice up their flesh into narrow strips and then into tiny cubes.  
"They're not the kind we'd find back in Santa Fe, but these'll do more than the trick for you guys," she assures him, holding up a piece of one of them for him to see.  
He shakes his head and shows her an excited grin.  
"Oh, man," he croons; once she notices the water in the saucepan coming to a boil, and careful not to burn herself or him, she slips the ears of corn in there for a good cooking throughout.  
"So what was all of that earlier?" he asks her.  
"All of what?"  
"You know. Checkin' me out."  
"I was not checkin' you out," she insists, imitating his Italian-American accent all the while.  
"Come on. Looking at me from my feet all the way up to my head. You were totally checkin' me out. Just kinda glad you weren't flirtin' with me."  
She stops in place and raises an eyebrow and flashes a smirk at him.  
"If checkin' you out isn't flirting, then care to tell me what is?"  
Joey opens his mouth to say something but no sound comes out.  
"Just what I thought," she teases him.  
"Thought what?"  
"You think I was hitting on you. Come on, admit it."  
"Why would I think that?"  
"'Cause you're the singer. The singer always gets the action."  
"Not me."  
"Nonsense."  
"No, it's true."  
"With those pants on those legs and that hair, I don't think so."  
"A-ha!" He points a finger at her. "You were looking at my legs, got you!"  
"Not necessarily," she points out, picking up the knife again. "I could just've been making an observation just now. Besides, why would I hit on you?"  
"'Cause I'm the singer, like you said. I'm also just a few years older than you. At least, I think I am."  
"How old are you?" she asks him.  
"Twenty-four and a half."  
"I turned twenty about a month ago in March, so—alright, you get a pass for that. But I ain't hitting on you, though. I wasn't earlier and I'm not doing it now, either."  
"So you don't think I'm hot?"  
She lifts her gaze from her temporary cutting board to examine the inside of Joey's thighs and his knees first, then his slim body and his lanky, toned arms, and then his handsome face and his large brown eyes underneath his kinky curly bangs. She swallows and then shows him her tongue.  
"Well, I won't deny that you're a very good-looking man. Little too good-looking, I might add."  
"'Too' good-looking? No, not me. Not with this damn hole in my teeth or this big fucking beak of a nose on my face."  
"Come on, you should be proud of yourself," she insists, continuing to cube the chili peppers, "you should be proud of yourself instead of having to rely on a random chick such as myself. Let me ask you this—"  
She lifts the lid from the boiling water to check on the corn and figures another minute or two.  
"How does it feel when you're up on stage? Is it exhilarating?"  
"Absolutely. I feel on top of the world when I'm out there singing my heart out." He shifts his weight and straightens himself upright.  
"When I first joined, I was just a hard rock brat playing in cover bands in upstate New York. So after I got the job, I did some digging around at first and examined the crowds before bands like them because I knew nothing about it. I was stunned by the energy of it all. There isn't another feeling like it when I sing for one of those crowds and everyone's got their eye on me. It is so exhilarating, but... you wanna know something?"  
"Yeah."  
"It's a little terrifying. You know. I'm out there in the open with nothing more than my microphone in hand. I'm the only one of these guys who doesn't play instrument—well, not technically speaking, I am in fact a drummer, but not with them, though. I almost feel naked when I'm out there."  
"Naked?"  
"Totally—buck naked," he replies with emphasis. "But it's invigorating."  
"So you feel totally at home up there?" she follows along, lifting the lid again.  
"Totally. How's that corn doing, by the way?"  
"I think we're ready, Freddie," she answers, turning off the heat.  
"Would you like me to move?" he offers.  
"Yeah, I need a place to slice up the corn. Could you get me a bowl or something, please?"  
"Oh, to put the kernels in?"  
"Yeah."  
Joey stands to his feet and slips out of there in search of a bowl for her. Valentina keeps her eye on the backs of his thighs again. His skin-tight clothes have lost their meaning at this point, now that he mentioned about feeling exposed while on stage. She moves the saucepan off of the hot plate so the water begins to cool off.  
He can sense her denial, but he let her in regardless. She knows that he knows that she was examining him, and yet he lowered his wall for her. She vows to herself to not resort to complacency if this whole spiel with the five of them continues.  
Oddly enough, Joey does return to her cradling a little white bowl in both hands as if asking her for more.  
"Oh, that's perfect!" she declares as he sets it down in the chair next to her. Careful not to burn herself, she removes the husk from the first ear of corn and reveals those bright yellow kernels. She sets the ear down in the bowl and runs the knife down the side to take off the kernels. She goes all the way around until she has a bare ear in hand; she repeats it with all of the ears of corn until she has a bowl full of cooked bright yellow corn kernels, which she smashes into a fine paste with the head of the spork. Once she has a mash of sorts, she then pours in some of the boiled water as a substitute for broth, and then crackles in some of the salt and pepper for flavor, and adds in a bit of lard for a paste.  
She scoots back a bit and then takes the first husk and lays it out on the spot before her. Joey pushes the chair closer to her so she can scoop out a bit of the paste to line the bottom of the husk. She sprinkles a few of the chili peppers on top and adds another layer of paste to encase it.  
"Shall I get some plates?" he offers her again.  
"Please do. These have to set for a couple of minutes in order to make for proper tamales anyways."  
"Alright!" He rubs his hands together and ducks out of the room, which in turn leaves her alone with making the tamales.  
Within time, she has crafted out a whole row of seven rather awkward and hastily put together tamales, fresh off of the hot plate. They're not the ones she used to make in Santa Fe but they would in fact do with what they had on hand. Joey and Dan duck into the room, both of them with tiny paper plates in hand.  
"Holy shit, it smells good in here," declares Dan; careful not to burn herself, Valentina sets the one closest to her on his plate and then, once he peels off the corn husk to reveal the creamy smooth inside, she applies a dollop of sour cream on top. Joey does the same thing, except he takes a whiff of the tamale first before taking his first bite.  
Scott, Frank, and Charlie file into the room right then, all three of them with plates in hand as well.  
"Thanks for dinner, Val," Charlie tells her.  
"Oh, I know, right?" Frank joins in, taking a bite of his tamale.  
"Breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner, mind you," Joey points out.  
"Fed us all three meals—" Scott remarks, slipping a piece of tamale into his mouth and closing his eyes. "—how can we refuse?" He takes the fork out of his mouth and eyes his watch.  
"Oh, shit! We've gotta go, you guys!"  
He and Charlie begin wolfing down their tamales as they dart out of the room together. Frank flashes her a thumbs-up and a wink, given his mouth is full. Once she climbs to her feet and proceeds cleaning up, Dan opens his arms for her for an embrace.  
"Thank you," he whispers into her ear.  
"My pleasure," she whispers back to him.  
"Meet me back here after the show."  
He pulls back and winks at her, and she shows him a grin in response. He then ducks out of the room and back out the hallway.  
"Val—" says Joey to catch her attention. She lifts her gaze to find him holding out a tiny round object in the palm of his free hand.  
"What's this?"  
"A good luck charm. Keeps the nightmares away."  
She takes a closer look to find it's a dream catcher, one about the size of a silver dollar, and with a small silver bead on the bottom side.  
"I've had it in my pocket since I joined," he explains, "but now that we've got our own collective good luck charm—" She peers up to find him gazing at her with a thoughtful look on his face. "—I want you to have it."  
"Thank you," she replies in a low voice, taking the dream catcher and holding it in her index finger and her thumb.  
"And by the way—don't tell Danny," he whispers into her face. She raises an eyebrow at the smirk on his face, the one that lingers in her mind as he steps away from her and into the hallway.  
She takes another good long look at the tiny threads making up the fine interweaving on the inside of the dark brown circle, and the little silver bead at the bottom. So intricate and delicate, much like Joey himself. And she can't help but feel the need to hide it in her purse for the time being.  
"Let the games begin," she whispers, slinging it over her shoulder and doubling down the hallway to catch up with them.


	10. Chapter 10

Once she had picked up at least some of her mess, Valentina follows the boys out to the narrow corridor, which in turn leads her to the vast stretch of dark wooden floor behind the lush red velvet curtain: behind the curtain, she can make out the wall of white noise rising out until she notices a sliver of light shining down onto the floor. The tall black boxes from earlier had been moved back here and it takes her a second to realize that this is in fact the beginnings of the backstage area. She notices Scott ducking out underneath the curtain, followed by Joey, who has a microphone in one hand and part of a stand in the other. Dan had already made his way out there.  
The kick drum thumps, and thumps so hard that it pushes her back into the backstage area. There's a low guttural rumbling of a bass; she regathers herself and makes her way to the curtain once again. She peeks around the edge to find Charlie surrounded by jet black drums and a series of golden cymbals: he wipes his mouth and sets the plate down on the floor once he finishes his tamale. Frank has a big black bass guitar slung around his shoulder; Scott has his back to the audience as he tunes his guitar; Dan slings his guitar over his shoulder; and Joey shows off his tongue and raises his hand to flash the sign of the horns at everyone.  
"How all of youses doin' tonight?" he asks the audience through his microphone, and the theater erupts in cheers.  
They begin to play, and Valentina watches in awe of them with her eyes large and her mouth hanging agape.  
Charlie's curly dark hair flies as he grinds away at his drums, which have a sound bearing resemblance to a blacksmith's hammer. Every so often, Frank tosses his hair back and points at someone in the front rows. Scott runs around the stage with an odd, almost comical stomp to his step: his long hair streams behind him like a curtain billowing in a breeze. The sole calm parts of the stage are Joey and Dan; the latter stands with his legs spread and his gaze fixated on the strings of his guitar, which dwarfs him in size. The former has one foot up on one of the speakers at the front of the stage and his left hand down by his hip so he can grip onto the stand; he holds onto the actual microphone with his right hand.  
The shrill, but oddly smooth sound of his voice sails and fills every crevice of the Moore, and right square between Valentina's legs. It doesn't help matters that Charlie's kick drum and Frank's bass makes the bones of her rib cage and her hips rattle and tickle her from the inside. She's stunned by the fact she can hear Joey over the ferocious sound of Dan and Scott's dueling guitars.  
Dan treats it all as another day at the office, even though his office consists of something that grinds away at the sound of silence like a buzz saw. The silence she wishes she could finally behind her, but follows her all the way to this curtain. The silence she so wishes to share with the five of them.  
Joey's voice stops her right in her tracks, from the fact he's so quick, keeping up with Charlie, to the sharpness of his shrieks, to his smooth vibrato, to the fact he almost sounds as though...  
...he's _mourning_.  
There's an odd feeling of agony to Joey's voice. One that seems to twin with Dan's playing.  
That same feeling that welled up within her when her mom told her she and her dad were separating, and she had fallen for someone else, and wanted to leave for Washington with him as a result.  
That same feeling that followed her out of California and along the deserted highways into New Mexico.  
That same feeling that hung over her head on those scorching hot summer days in Santa Fe when she awaited the monsoon rains to make their noise upon the roof over her tiny cramped bedroom.  
That same feeling that brings her a sense that she is safe here no matter what the cause.  
And yet she can't stand it. It's a bit too much for her, and yet she continues to watch because she knows the games have begun, and they're going to further kick off once she and Dan have their moment alone afterwards.


	11. Chapter 11

"Oh, my God!" she proclaims as she backs away from the curtain to let them through. The crowd is still erupting in cheers as Dan approaches her first with strands of his long hair matted to the side of his face with sweat. His blue eyes are as large and bright as ever.  
"Incredible?" he asks her, out of breath, in spite of not moving about that much throughout the whole show.  
"That was unbelievable!" Valentina squeals, adjusting the strap on her purse; Joey bustles his way through the curtain, as the brown skin on his arms, his neck, and all around his face shines with a good and healthy sheen of sweat.  
"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" he declares with a big grin on his face. "Sweatin' and just a shitload of fun— _that_ is how it's done!"  
"Your _voice_ ," she swoons, pressing a hand to her chest.  
"And now you know why we had to have him with us." Dan gestures at him when he ambles away from there to fetch himself a drink of water.  
"And _your_ playing," she continues.  
"Eh, I'm not that good, though," he insists as Scott bustles in behind the curtain with his thick eyebrows raised high over his eyes and his forehead shining.  
"Seriously? It touched me."  
"What touched you?" sputters Scott as he tries to stifle a laugh.  
"Dan's playing. What'd you think I meant?"  
"Dan, of course," he chuckles. "Or Joey for that matter."  
"After gettin' all sweaty like this?" Joey calls from the other side of the room before he heads back into the corridor. "Yeah... no. I ain't gettin' my juice on her."  
"Did someone say 'juice'?" Frank joins in from behind; stray strands of his lush black hair stick to his neck and the side of his face, but this does not resist the bright, shining grin from showing itself.  
"Yeah, Joe did!" Dan cracks, running his fingers through his hair. Charlie then brings in the rear with his long hair tied back into a taut ponytail at the back of his head and his shirt slung over his shoulder. He closes the curtain behind him and presses his hands to his hips.  
"Phew!" he groans out.  
"Charlie was working hard!" Dan adds as Scott and Frank follow Joey back down the hall to the room.  
"Yeah, I'll say—quite the crowd if I might say so myself. I'm dyin' of thirst now..." Once Charlie leaves them alone there near the curtain, Dan turns to Valentina with an excited look upon his face.  
"So," she starts, rummaging into her purse for something but she has nothing in mind in particular to search for.  
"So what?"  
"We're alone now. What would you like to share with me?"  
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Come right this way—"  
Dan guides her away from the curtain towards the corridor but they hang there in the middle of the floor: he slips his hands underneath the roots of his hair at the back of his head to relieve some of the accumulated heat there.  
"I wanted to ask you, seeing as—you have your job at the bakery and whatnot—and we're going down to Portland two days from now to play—yeah!"  
She raises her eyebrows in excitement at that.  
"I ran this by Scott and Charlie earlier before you showed up," he continues, "we wanna know if you'd like to make us a whole round of baked goods. Be our caterer for the day."  
"I'd love to!" she declares. "I'd have to tell my boss, though. She'd be happy to organize the whole thing, if I tell her right away."  
"Tell her right away, please. You know, 'cause we loved those donuts and you were kind enough to take us out to lunch and make us dinner and whatnot."  
He shifts his weight there on the floor before her: in the dim light, she can make out the sight of his tongue running along his bottom lip. She drops her gaze to his chin and the center of his throat. Perhaps now is the time to take her game to the next level.  
"I'm glad you guys did in fact enjoy those donuts," she tells him. "You know I always make 'em with boys in mind."  
He chuckles at that.  
"I'm glad that you do," he replies, putting his arms behind his back and clasping his hands together at his lower back. "It's not often we come across a chick who can both rock and bake and cook like hell."  
"What about those tamales? What'd you think of those?"  
"Exquisite. Everything I could'a asked for inside of a corn husk that isn't—you know, an ear of corn."  
She giggles at him, and he nibbles on his bottom lip.  
"You know, I should tell you," he clears his throat and bows his head a bit as if hiding his eyes, "—neither of us are seeing anyone, but I'm not seeing anyone in particular."  
"Oh, yeah?"  
"I'm wondering if you'd like to go out for lunch tomorrow. Just you and me, down in Portland."  
"Oh, I don't know. I might have to work late tomorrow. Double shifts and whatnot."  
"It's alright, I can always swing by Smell the Magic and watch you make stuff again."  
"Oh, yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you, Danny boy?" she teases him, and then gives him another giggle.  
"You're fun to watch," he confesses. "Maybe I can bring all five fellas with me, too, see if they wanna come and join in on the fun."  
"You just want me to make you more of those donuts," she scoffs.  
"Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna share the love. Share the love an' make my band mates smell the magic with me."  
"Oooh, that was smooth."  
"I try my best," he answers with a shrug.  
"Well, if they do come along, maybe you can be a gent and help me out a bit."  
"Y'know, I'd love to help you no matter what, babe—" He clasps a hand to his mouth, but the word already left his lips. She gasps and wags a finger at him.  
"Oh, no, don't be doing that now," she scolds him.  
"It just slipped out," he insists.  
"Uh-huh, right. I'm gonna be keeping my eye on you, Danny." She squints her eyes at him with intent. Dan nibbles on his bottom lip and runs his hand through his hair again. He knows it was just an accident: he simply did not intend to refer to her as "babe" but the word was now water under the bridge. She heard it and what's done is done.  
Valentina puckers her lips a bit at him, but then she strides away, back down the hall to the room, which in turn leaves Dan there hanging.  
He watches her pad down the hard wooden floor with her purse over her shoulder and a sway to her hips. He sighs through his nose, since he knows that he's in trouble now. Maybe she'll forget all about it, and maybe she won't bring it up any time in the future, and maybe she won't tell the others. Maybe. But the former two are both a big maybe. If she does tell the four of them of what happened here, she's trouble.  
But it's a harmless word, and even if it didn't slip out of his mouth, surely she would have known he only meant it in an innocuous sense. They're not together and she's been kind to them all this time.  
 _I'm just overreacting_ , he tells himself. _Totally overreacting_.  
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip again. Like with the donuts, the tamales leave a definite aftertaste, but one riddled with spice from the peppers. Hopefully, there's a jug of water or something there in the room. He continues to tell himself that that was a mistake. He didn't mean it and he can only hope that she understands that. She's an aspiring college girl, therefore she's smart. She ought to understand that.  
He follows after Valentina, right as she slips in through the doorway.  
Meanwhile, she slips past Charlie and Scott and makes her way to Frank, as he's pouring himself a paper cup full of water. She throws her arms around him and presses her lips onto his. Stunned, Frank staggers back towards the wall but he regains his posture as her hands run down his back towards his hips. Joey gapes at them and Charlie claps.  
"Yeah, Frankie!" Scott cheers. Dan enters the room right then and stops at the sight before him. Joey knits his eyebrows together and gestures to them. No sound emerges from his mouth. Dan shrugs and mouths, "I don't know."  
Valentina lets go of Frank and he hangs there with a baffled and slightly aroused look upon his face. He cracks her a smile, albeit a confused one, and then he turns to Charlie.  
"You owe me twenty bucks," he says.  
"Yeah, you can just wait, big guy," Charlie scoffs.  
Joey keeps his eyebrows knitted together as she beams at him. Valentina saunters towards an excited Scott.  
"And yes, I'm going to do the whole catering thing in a couple of days for you boys," she announces to him. "I have to talk to my boss, but it's gonna happen one way or the other."  
"Alright!" He raises a hand for her and she gives him a high-five; she follows suit for Charlie and then blows a kiss at the confused Frank and winks at the even more confused Joey. She slips past Dan there in the doorway.  
"Catch you later," she whispers into his ear; since her head is turned the other way, the other four men can't see her tongue jutting out from her mouth. Dan nibbles on his bottom lip once again, right before she leaves the building. Once she's gone and disappeared into the night, Joey ducks over to him, the look of confusion still firmly plastered on his handsome face. Dan leads him out to the corridor so they can have a moment of privacy.  
"What—in the hell was that all about?" Joey demands.  
"I have no idea," Dan confesses. "I—I swear to you, Joe, I didn't do anything."  
"Yeah, but I wasn't accusing you, though," he points out.  
"I know, just—just—just—"  
"Yeah. It was—" Joey can hardly speak, and it doesn't help matters he was up on stage singing his heart out not even ten minutes ago.  
"I did accidentally call her 'babe', though," Dan recalls.  
"Oh, no, don't do that," Joey points out, shaking his head.  
"How would you know?"  
"What? I read. I've watched my parents and my grandparents."  
"Says the guy who—" Dan winks and raises his fingers to imitate quotation marks. "—'reads' the Sears catalog."  
"Oh, come on, that's how I found the drums."  
"Right."  
Joey peers over his shoulder to ensure they're alone in the hallway before returning to Dan.  
"Hey, at least I admit it," he says in a low voice. Dan scowls at him.  
"What're you sayin', Joe?" He folds his arms over his chest.  
"Nothing..." His voice trails off.  
"Come on."  
"No. There's nothing, Danny, I swear."  
"Come on, big boy, tell me."  
Joey lets out an exasperated sigh. "Alright, fine. Do you even jerk off?"  
"Sometimes. When you guys aren't looking or when I'm in the bathroom."  
"...alright then."  
"And I've gotta admit, I'm—"  
"Yeah?" Joey raises his eyebrows at him.  
"I'm... kinda starting to like Val."  
"You and me both, man. The girl can cook. And bake. I swear to God, those were probably the best tamales I've had... ever."  
"Oh, right? And who can forget, those _donuts_!"  
"Lord..." Joey tilts his head back in a brief bout of euphoria, and then he opens his eyes again. "I can only imagine what's at that bakery."  
"All kinds'a incredible stuff. Danishes, and cakes, and pies..."  
"Oh, man, you're killin' me." Joey peers over his shoulder again. "Also, Frankie and Charlie made a bet with each other?"  
"I guess? Who knows what it was about, though. She invited us to come down to Smell the Magic tomorrow for a peek into how she makes stuff."  
"All of us?"  
"Yeah! We should totally do it!"  
"Alright," Joey concludes, rubbing his warm hands together, "let's tell the Three Amigos in there about it, and—" He stops for a second. "Back up, d'you seriously call me 'big boy'?"  
Dan's blue eyes widen when he retreads over he had said to him.  
"It just... slipped out," he admits in a soft voice.  
"Be careful, Danny," Joey points out. "But then again, it could be worse, though."  
"Calling a teacher 'mom'," he says.  
"Oh—Oh, _God_!" Joey snaps his eyes shut in disgust. "But yeah. Be careful, though. I like Val, too, but we've gotta be careful. No Freudian slips."


	12. Chapter 12

It's about quarter after five in the morning when Valentina leaves her apartment in Lake Oswego for a long day at Smell the Magic: she wasn't kidding to Dan when she told him she'd be working a double shift on this day, taking a two hour lunch break at midday and then continuing to work after closing time at three in the afternoon. It's going to be a long day, but not if Dan is to keep his promise and bring the guys along with him there at the bakery. She climbs into her car with her red apron tied on around her waist and proceeds to drive along the edge of the glassy pitch-dark surface of the lake, lit up only by the rich violet light making up the sky overhead and the lights from the nearby houses and cafes.  
A thought crosses her mind, one that tells her to bring Joey here to the lake to see it for himself. Every so often, and all while keeping her eye upon this narrow two-lane road, she peers out the passenger window at the black waters, as black as Joey's hair and as black as the cherries waiting for her to incorporate into today's danishes.  
There's something about that boy, about that man with the big pain-riddled voice, from the playful twinkle in those big brown eyes to the fact he believes she was flirting with him there in the alleyway. Much to her luck, he's only a little older than her. Something about him that makes her want to tango with him. Tango with him the way everyone wanted to tango at prom.  
She figures Dan is the main act for her, but Joey needs to be put in his place. To be taught a lesson first before she does anything with Dan.  
Valentina continues onto the interstate which in turn takes her into the sleepy heart of Portland: to her right, across the valley, stands the dark, quiet silhouette of Mount Hood, still dark given the sun is a little more than half an hour from rising up right over the horizon.  
 _I oughtta take Joey out there and fuck him silly_ , she thinks to herself. _Fuck him silly, play with that beautiful hair of his, and play his ass like a pair of drums. Make him scream like he did last night. That oughtta teach him a lesson for thinking I was flirting with him_.  
She smirks to herself as she presses onward to the north side of Portland and the bridge taking her over the Columbia River. It's dead silent inside of her car except for the noise from the tires on the freeway.  
But then, she realizes, there's Dan.  
What to do with him once Joey's had his fill.  
He does like those donuts and he makes it quite clear that there aren't really a lot of chances for them to eat all too often. They're starving artists, Dan in particular is one.  
She thinks back to the day before when they were eating out at the Mexican place in the Moore Theater, and how he seemed genuinely interested in her. Perhaps he's telling the truth, in that it's from the fact she is helping them, but she shines a light on something else in there, much like how the rising sun is about to shine a light over this dark side of the Cascade Mountains.  
She flexes her fingers on the edge of the steering wheel. Perhaps she can get Dan to flex a bit more on his part, to do more to show to her that she can spend some more of those thick stacks of hundred dollar bills in her purse on him and his band mates.  
More money, more food, more dropping his guard to her, more of a chance to figure him out on the inside.  
Another thought that emerges in her mind is what would her parents think about these two guys. What would they say about all of this? But then, of course, she remembers there's the whole catering opportunity that he and Scott offered to her. And like a strike of lightning, she considers not telling them about the two of them, but rather, she can cover it up and highlight the fact she has not one, not two, but _five_ loyal clients to Smell the Magic, and they love it so much that they want her to help them out with the whole food aspect.  
It's all about to fall right into place for her!  
Within time, the hulking snow-capped monolith of Mount Rainier emerges from the darkness to her right and she rolls through Centralia, all the while going past the cut-off which leads to Aberdeen and the coast. The sky brightens into a brighter shade of violet as she clears the capital city of Olympia and follows the curvature of the land towards neighboring Lacey: within time, the evergreen trees lining the interstate take their shape away from the darkness and she makes view of the end of the vast dark waters of the Puget Sound.  
It seems like a long time, but she soon arrives in the heart of downtown Seattle. She takes the next exit and winds her way through the side streets to Smell the Magic with a few minutes to spare. She parks around the corner and strides along the sidewalk to the front door, and unlocks it. She's about to open the door and turn on the lights when she hears a familiar voice.  
"Val!"  
She turns her head to the right to bear the sight of Joey and Dan walking side by side down the sidewalk.  
"Oh, hey, you two," she greets them with a grin on her face. "I was just thinkin' 'bout the both of you."  
"Aw, that's sweet of you," Joey says as part of his greeting; the first rays of golden light from the rising sun kiss the top of the building and the very tips of the crown of fluffy curls atop his head. Combined with that little fitted black leather jacket hugging his slim body and the exhausted look on his face, he resembles one of those Indian statues outside of a cigar shop but without the headdress. Dan, meanwhile, looks as though he had not fallen asleep at all overnight given his blue eyes are as clear and filled with light as the day ahead. The hair atop his head flutters in the wake of the kiss of a breeze.  
They're both here early, and she knows it's to watch her make donuts again.  
Valentina leads them into the bakery; Dan pulls the door shut behind him. A rush of wind sends their hair flying over their heads: she eyes the little grin on Joey's face as he clasps a hand to his head to keep his hair back.  
 _This'll be easier than shooting fish in a barrel_ , she thinks to herself as she heads into the back room to start up the ovens.  
The two of them, meanwhile, wander about the front of the bakery and examine the shelves on the other side of the front room. Dan spots a silvery metal grate over the display case and frowns.  
"Hey, Val, do you mind if I take this thing off of the glass here?" he calls out to her; she leans out of the side of the doorway to see what he's talking about.  
"Oh, yeah!" she answers as she picks out a whisk with a red handle from the drawer in front of her. "You've gotta unlock it from the back, though. Here—"  
She pads into the front room and ducks behind the case with her free hand in the apron pocket. She unlocks the back door with one of her keys and slides it open for him. Dan rounds the side of the case to see for himself. Joey posts up there with an eager look on his face as Dan leans in to remove the grating and reveal the shelves, which are bare for the moment. She's about to return here with today's danishes and donuts to put on sight for the world to see.  
"We're in business, Joe!" Dan declares as the grating rattles.  
"Oh, man, you're killin' me," Joey says in an excited tone.  
"You really _are_ just a couple of boys," she teases them, brandishing the whisk.  
"Well, of course," Joey cracks as she turns back around. He rests his left arm on the top as if posing for her again.  
"What do you mean 'of course'?" she asks him, laying the head of the whisk in the palm of her hand.  
"You know." She pads up closer to him, keeping her chest within close range of his: the bottom of her shirt collar hangs about an inch from the bottom of the lapels on his jacket.  
"You can't tell me a fucking thing," she whispers into his ear. Joey raises his eyebrows at her.  
"Oh, yeah?"  
"Yeah."  
He purses his lips together but he doesn't move a muscle. He keeps his brown eyes locked onto her.  
"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she taunts him. He nibbles on his bottom lip when Dan pipes up again.  
"By the way, are we still doing the whole 'you and I are posing as boyfriend and girlfriend', Val?"  
She turns her head to find him standing upright and giving his long hair a toss back from his head.  
"Of course!" she proclaims. "We can do that for days, if you'd like."  
Dan can't resist the grin from crossing his face, which in turn brightens his eyes to the clearest blue she has ever seen.  
"Mind if, uh—Mr. Bellardini here and I help ya out with some stuff?"  
"Um, yes! I think my colleague is gonna be showing up here pretty soon, though, but yes, please! That's really sweet of you, by the way, Danny."  
She strolls past Joey who, even though he still has his arm up on the top of the display case, is flexing every muscle in his upper body to the point his face is flushing. Dan chuckles at him as he walks up to him.  
"You alright?" he asks, bringing a hand to his mouth. Joey gestures for him to move in closer, and Dan hovers right before his dark lips and the tip of his nose.  
"I feel like I'm about ready to piss myself," he whispers into his ear. Dan chortles and stifles another laugh.  
"Hey, man, if you wanna use the bathroom, nothin's stoppin' you," he points out.  
"No, I don't mean—like that." Joey bows his head at those last two words.  
"Oh, yeah?" Dan smirks at him.  
"Yeah."  
"Again, if you wanna use the bathroom—and for _that_ , no less—nothin's stoppin' you. You can do that and help us out afterward. I'm sure Val would love to look at your ass as you're lifting up stuff."  
"Like she—wouldn't look at those big guns you've got under your jacket," Joey stammers in a near whisper. And without hesitating, Dan removes his little leather jacket to reveal his strong, toned arms. The same arms that could perhaps impress her even more without the guitar in his hands.  
"We _are_ the ones supposedly dating after all," he points out, setting the jacket down on the wooden table against the wall. He ducks around to help out Val in the back room, and Joey lets out a soft, but pained whimper at the tightened feeling in his chest and his crotch.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Don't try and fight me,  
>  'cause I surround you.  
> I really like it, baby,  
> I want to be your candy."_  
> -"Candy", Bikini Kill

"Be careful with this, Danny, it's heavy."  
Together, Joey and Dan lift up a long but thick box filled with what Valentina described "scores of red and blue food coloring". Both men had stripped off their jackets and lay them on the table behind the display case, and now their knees and the muscles in their arms are twitching at the lifting of this box, even as the vessels inside slosh about at their movements.  
"Yep! That's it! Right back here!"  
Valentina is still in the back room assisting the ovens, but she manages to watch them stagger in there towards the fridge: Dan walks in backwards and peers over his shoulder every so often to help him keep his track. She eyes his toned arms, those hearty biceps in particular. She drops her gaze to his thighs underneath the box. Joey has become part of the scenery right then because she has her eye on the first man who walked in now.  
"Back here?" Dan calls to her, flashing a glimpse at her as they near the back wall.  
"That's it! So it's out of the way, you know?"  
"Absolutely."  
They set down the box on the floor and she heads on out of there, and then onward to the front door. Joey pads out of the back room and towards the display case. He lays his arms over the top and bows his head so as to hide his face.  
Dan scurries up next to him, and hangs there next to the side of his body.  
"What's the matter?" he asks.  
"Kill me," Joey blurts out, his voice muffled by his arms and the top of the case.  
"Why?" answers Dan, stunned.  
"Val's totally flirting with me."  
He laughs and rolls his eyes before stepping away again. "That shouldn't be a reason to kill you, though. Just relax, Joe."  
Valentina returns to the front room at that moment, and Joey lifts himself upright, while still keeping his arms on the top of the case. "But it's making me hot, though," he points out to Dan.  
"Well, take off your jacket," he suggests, not paying any attention to Joey.  
"I did!"  
He turns his head to see Valentina standing there next to him with her hands to her hips. Joey nibbles on his bottom lip as he examines her legs, then her hips, and then her whole body. The warm sensation flows throughout his face and his neck to give his olive skin a kiss of rose. She smirks at him.  
"Are you okay? Your face is flushed."  
"Yeah, I just—I just—"  
"Don't flex, Joe!" Dan calls out from the back room. Valentina bursts out laughing and she rounds him, and heads back to the ovens.  
"Anyways, my colleague's gonna be here soon," she informs Dan. "I'm glad you boys were willing to help out with some heavy stuff and organize some things together in here."  
"Can we still hang around in here, though?" he asks.  
"Of course! We can show Adrienne that we are—you know, dating." She winks at him.  
"Gladly!" Dan brushes her again to meet up with Joey, who had moved over to the side of the room, right before the shelf full of muffins. He squats down in front of the hearty bran muffins and the crispy, delicate Napoleons: his thighs are spread apart to give his length a bit of relief. He stares at the hard floor between him and Dan, but does not lift his gaze to examine him.  
"Well, I feel like a total jackass now," he scoffs in a low voice.  
"Don't take it so hard, man," suggests Dan, squatting down before him to catch his attention.  
"'Don't flex'?"  
"Yeah. I did that for her, not for you. Remember, we're 'dating'." He raises his two fingers to imitate quotation marks.  
"Oh, I see. Okay." Joey lets out a long low whistle. "Sometimes I just—I just—"  
"You like her," Dan fills in, "and not like how I like her."  
"Right. And I swear to God, my head and my genitals are at war with each other right now. Look at me—I'm practically posing as a frog."  
"I'm tellin' ya, man, go into the bathroom if you gotta tug on the hose a bit."  
"What if she comes in, though?" Joey points out.  
"Adrienne or Val?"  
"Adrienne. She'll be here any minute and I'm a fucking mess."  
"Go do it, man. Don't worry 'bout her—when you come out, just act naturally. I'll meet up with this other chick Adrienne first an' see where it goes from here."  
Joey fetches up a sigh and stands to his feet, still with his legs spread. Valentina need not see him walking to the men's room as if he has no knees because he had already made a fool of himself back there. Dan watches him duck in behind the display case to the narrow corridor taking him to the other side of the bakery. Joey slides into the first door on the right with his back to the edge of the door frame; he groans in agony as he shuts the door behind him. Dan laughs to himself, but he also regrets doing so.  
 _Poor guy_ , he thinks to himself as he stands into an upright position. _Sure, Val and I aren't dating but he's got the hots for her regardless_.  
The front door of the bakery swings open and he reaches to the top of his head to smooth out his hair. He rounds the shelves to meet up with Adrienne, a short slender woman with long inky black hair down to her waist and big brown eyes which, along with her lush pink lips, stand out against her ghostly white skin. Her whole appearance strikes him, from the way everything about her seems to contrast with the rising sun behind her. She, too, has on her red apron over her black jeans and her black and white striped blouse.  
"Hello," she greets him in a low, velvety voice.  
"Hi," he replies with a small but welcoming smile to her.  
"You're in here awful early."  
"Adrienne, this is Dan," Valentina joins in right then. She lifts her hand towards his upper back but she doesn't touch him. "He's—currently my date."  
"Oh, really?" Adrienne raises her eyebrows at him first, and then she shows Valentina a playful grin.  
"Yeah, it's—it's definitely true," stammers Dan as he folds his arms over his chest. "I walked in here and we—started talkin' and—things hit off."  
She waves a finger at him.  
"New York City, right?"  
"Rockland County, which technically is right outside of the City, but yeah."  
"Long way from home! I hope you guys can keep it up. My last boyfriend and I lived within a mile of each other and we couldn't work it out—"  
The bathroom door down the corridor swings back open and Joey steps out with a relieved look upon his face. Once he sees Adrienne, he smooths out his shirt and his jeans.  
"And that's my friend Joey," Dan introduces him. "Another New Yorker, but from much further upstate."  
Joey tosses a stray piece of his inky curls back from his shoulder as he strides on into the room: he still has a bit of blush to his face but it had waned away.  
"Adrienne," he greets her, his voice breaking.  
"Yeah—" She flutters her lashes a bit at him and Joey hangs back there in the doorway. She turns to Valentina, still keeping her grin intact.  
"Got a couple of good-looking boys in here, Val," she remarks.  
"Yeah, I'll say. Dan wanted to come in here again to watch us make donuts and I guess he didn't wanna come alone."  
"Donuts and macarons, too," Adrienne reminds her.  
"Oh, yeah, that's right! We're gonna be making macarons today! And I should tell you this right now—well, actually, you wanna tell her, Dan?"  
"About what?"  
"The catering thing."  
"Oh, _that_! Right." He turns his attention to Adrienne. "Joey and I are part of a band, and there's five of us. And we love the baked stuff here so much that we asked Val if she wanted to help cater for us tomorrow before our show at the Moore. We wanted to know if you and your boss would be willing to be a part of it."  
"You want us to cater for you guys?" Her face lights up at the sound of that. "What kinda band are you guys?"  
"Metal," replies Joey as he ambles closer to them with his head bowed a bit.  
"Heavy metal," echoes Dan.  
"They rock, too," adds Valentina. "They're loud but—good loud. Not trashy loud."  
"Oh, God, that's so rad! Well, Marlene called me last night and told me that she's gonna be in late today. When she shows up, let's all tell her."  
"We'll be like a bunch'a kids asking their parents for a party," Dan jokes, and Adrienne and Valentina burst out laughing at that.  
"So you ladies'll be making... macaroons, you said?" recalls Joey as he tucks his hands into his jeans pockets.  
"Macarons," Adrienne corrects him. "Little sandwich cookies that you can probably pop into your mouth in one fell swoop."  
"We make ours with mocha and vanilla," Valentina fills in. "We've only made them once before and they were bit of a flop at first. But then we started getting people begging us to bring them back. And so, here we are."  
"Sweet," remarks Dan.  
"We're gonna be the first ones to taste 'em, aren't we," Joey follows along.  
"If you want," Adrienne jokes to him. He turns his attention to Dan.  
"What do you think, Danny?"  
"Sign me up."  
"Alright!" Adrienne rubs her hands together at a slow pace. "Let's get to work, Val—"  
Valentina takes her hand away from the very top of Dan's hair and leads her into the room behind them. Joey leans closer to Dan, who turns to face him straight on.  
"Adrienne's a doll," Joey whispers to him, and he rolls his eyes at him. "What? You're goin' out with Val, it's only fair, Danny."  
"You're such a stud, Joe," Dan chuckles, shaking his head.  
The two of them congregate at the doorway as the two women begin to make the rich dark, mocha flavored macarons with the creamy vanilla filling on the inside. Although the maker sits next to the refrigerator, the warm aroma of coffee fills the room and relaxes the both of them. Joey runs his hand through his hair at the sight of the carafe, filled with that rich black coffee, some of which went into the bowl there. Dan chuckles at him, even though he wishes for a mug for his own pleasure.  
Valentina still has the sway to her hips as she folds the batter over in the silver bowl: Dan keeps his eye on the head of the flat spatula as the batter eventually makes a bit of a flat trail of dark paste. Adrienne, meanwhile, picks out the electric mixer to make the filling. Dan directs his gaze to her and the fact she has a silver spoon in her right hand, perhaps for tasting.  
The mixer hums as the whisk creates that smooth fluffy white cream in the tall silver bowl before her. She switches it off and lifts the whisk out of the mixture, and dips her spoon into the top. She takes a step over to Joey with it raised to his mouth.  
"Taste this," she commands him, and he takes the spoon and puts it into his mouth. Dan catches a whiff of that warm aroma of vanilla, even as he takes the spoon out.  
"Oh my God," Joey declares, swallowing.  
"Is it good?" she asks him.  
"It's exquisite. Not too sweet, either."  
"Wanna try some, too, Dan?" she offers.  
"Yeah, try a bit, Danny!"  
Adrienne takes a small piece off of the point at the bottom of the whisk, and offers it to him. Dan takes the spoon and slips it onto his tongue. Joey was right: not too sweet, but smooth and silky, like velvet, and with the right amount of vanilla on the inside, like a little kiss good night. He takes the spoon out and brings his free hand to his chest.  
"I take that as a 'yes'," she answers with a bit of a sway to her head.  
"Those cookies are gonna be divine," he tells her as he hands the spoon to her.  
"Be patient, though, Danny," Valentina informs him. "This batter here has to go into the oven first."  
The two of them show one another with knowing glances.  
"We're patient boys," Dan assures her. "At least, I hope we are."


	14. Chapter 14

It would be another hour or so before Valentina and Adrienne's boss Marlene, an older but bright-eyed woman with a head full of rust colored red hair and her body wrapped head to toe in rich scarlet, would arrive at the bakery. At that point, Joey and Dan had ached for cups of coffee on their part as well as one or two of those indulgent dark macarons with that luscious vanilla cream in the middle. Dan had pulled up a pair of chairs behind the display case, right before the table there and their coats, for them to stay comfortable until the time arrived when they could return to the hotel room to fetch Scott, Frank, and Charlie.  
Once Marlene enters the room through the glass front door, Valentina arrives at the space behind the display case with a cookie in either hand.  
"For you boys, for being so patient," she declares with a little smile upon her face. Dan and Joey take the cookies in unison; the former examines the crumbly edges of the cookies as well as their glassy smooth surface on top; the latter takes a whiff of the cream on the inside from the side before taking a small, dainty bite.  
Dan follows suit: the shell of the cookies crunch on the outside, but within they are light and decadent with that mocha flavor. The vanilla cream just adds to it. Like a delicate cup of coffee at sunrise.  
"Holy shit, these are amazing," Dan tells her, bringing a hand to his mouth.  
"Glad we brought them back, aren't you?" she asks him, wiping her hands on her apron; Marlene strides up behind her with a jovial look upon her face.  
"Are you going to introduce me to your friends?" she quips at Valentina.  
"Dan and Joey," she introduces to them with a gesture towards each of them. "From New York."  
"You know," Marlene starts, "our head, my boss, and the founder of Smell the Magic—Sandra Black—she recently opened a shop in the... Manhattan neighborhood, I think it was. Right down the street from Grand Central."  
"Wow!" exclaims Dan, swallowing down his bite.  
"Is she comin' upstate?" asks Joey, holding his free hand before his lips.  
"Upstate? Not that I know of. Why, you from upstate?"  
"Born and raised in Oswego. Hour north of Syracuse."  
"My husband and his son—Adrienne's current boyfriend—are both from Rochester, about an hour from you're from."  
Joey crosses his legs and holds the cookie right next to his head in idle repose.  
"Alright, now we're getting interesting here."  
"Val, did you—" Dan starts, gesturing to Marlene, "—did you ask 'er?"  
"I did, yes," replies Valentina with a twinkle in her eye.  
"And the answer is yes," follows up Marlene, "it would be an absolute honor to help you fellas out for a day."  
"Oh, you're a godsend!" Dan declares, popping the rest of his cookie into his mouth. Two people then stride in through the front door, which gives Dan the signal that he and Joey must leave and return to the hotel.  
"We'll go and tell the guys about it," he informs them, standing to his feet and picking up his jacket.  
"And we'll see you boys tomorrow!" Marlene tells him as Joey stands up and scoops up his jacket; the three of them then turn to help out the two people, whom are then followed by another and another, and Dan and Joey are unable to bide farewell to either Valentina or Adrienne. The two of them stumble out of the bakery onto the sunlit sidewalk: the sun at this point has now risen over the horizon and thus bathes the valley in rich warm spring sunlight. Dan tucks his jacket underneath his arm while Joey slings his over his shoulder.  
The former notices the rather grave look on Joey's face even as he finishes off the cookie.  
"We didn't get a cup of coffee," Dan recalls.  
"Yeah, I know," Joey replies with his mouth full and his eyebrows knitted.  
"What's the matter?"  
"Adrienne has a boyfriend," Joey grumbles.  
"Ugh," groans Dan, looking disgusted. "Well—hm. I dunno what to tell ya, Joe."  
He falls into silence for a second and then he speaks again. "Actually, no, I take that back. If it makes you feel better, I need to know if Val would be willing to come with us on tour or not. If she doesn't, so much for the fake dating thing."  
"Hey, at least you guys're fakin' it. D'you see how Adrienne looked at me, though?"  
"I did. And to be very frank, I'm kinda wanting Val to do the same for me. When we met Adrienne earlier, her hand hovered over my back. She wasn't touching me."  
Joey gapes at him, stunned.  
"Really?"  
"Yeah. Like... I could feel her back there but she wasn't touching me, though."  
"Maybe she didn't wanna get batter on your hair," Joey suggests as he begins walking forward along the sidewalk, and Dan shrugs at that. He then lunges forward to walk side by side with him.  
"Who knows," confesses Dan. "I'm also getting this weird vibe from the both of them, too. Like... you know how something dangerous or destructive or whatever degree of weird or morbid has this odd appeal to it? It's like the inverse of that."  
"Like driving past a horrific car accident on the freeway and you can't look away."  
"Right! Except, like I said, it's the slight inverse of that. They're both gorgeous and helpful—"  
"And taken," adds Joey.  
"And taken—well, at least Adrienne is, I dunno 'bout Val. But I'm getting this feeling that I shouldn't be messing with Val in particular. Maybe it could be what happened to her, I dunno. I feel like the devil's seducing me to a lap dance disguised with sugar."  
"That should be a song lyric," Joey cracks as they approach the bus stop.  
"Maybe for Whitesnake—I dunno 'bout us."  
They stop there at the curb in anticipation of the bus.  
"You know what else gets me about them?" Joey pipes up again.  
"What's that?"  
"How they're all willin' to help us. I mean, that's—and I'm not just sayin' that because I'm an upstate boy, either."  
"Sharp contrast of attitude compared to the City," Dan chuckles.  
"Exactly! Might the whole West Coast thing, I dunno, I haven't really been out here to say that. But now that I think about it and get it out there into the open, I feel like we've got nothing to worry about."  
"I think you're right, Joey," Dan replies, thoughtful; the bus lumbers up to the curb right then. "I think you are right—"  
But even as the words leave his lips, Dan can't help but have a nagging sensation in the back of his mind telling him to stay hopeful about that. He hopes Joey is right about it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"I was six years old when I started creeping,  
>  my parents took it to their room and I started peeping.  
> You can imagine their surprise when they lifted their heads,  
> and saw my little ass creeping at the foot of the bed!"_  
> -"The Creep", The Lonely Island

"So when are they showing up tomorrow?" asks Adrienne, stepping up behind Valentina and wiping her hands on her apron. Valentina herself meanwhile sets down the pen on the counter, right next to the clipboard, in order to clock herself out. It's been quite the long day with the inclusion of Dan and Joey, plus the preparation of the round of catering for the five of them, and her aching, sore feet tell her that it's time to call it a day. She knows it'll all come together tomorrow when they show up there at Smell the Magic.  
"Probably some time in the morning," she replies. "You'll probably like them, too—they're all a bunch of cute boys."  
"A bunch of cute New Yorkers, alright!"  
"A bunch of cute New Yorkers who are starving artists no less."  
"So they'll be quite hungry, too, alright."  
 _Like shooting fish in a barrel_ , Valentina thinks to herself.  
  
  
Meanwhile, back at the hotel, Dan and Joey had long made their way to the tiny room once more with their jackets still slung over their shoulders.   
Even now, Dan can't hardly shake the taste of those macarons from the back of his mouth. It isn't so much the aftertaste but something else. Something else about that combination of mocha and vanilla continues to dance upon his tongue, something enticing and something that makes him question everything he had thought before as they were walking on the sidewalk.  
When Joey took his room key out of his back pocket and unlocked the door, they were greeted by Scott sliding out of the bathroom with his dark hair dripping hair behind his back and onto the carpet.  
"So?" he asked them as part of his greeting.  
"So what?" asked Dan once they filed inside of the room.  
"How'd it go?" Frank called out from the far side of the room.  
"They made us macarons," Joey replied as Dan shut the door behind them.  
"Made you what?" Scott raised one of this thick eyebrows at them.  
"Macarons," Dan echoed, "like little sandwich cookies. Kinda wish we brought some back for you guys 'cause they were incredible."  
"They wouldn't let you guys bring some back for us?" said Charlie from the bed closest to the bathroom wall.  
"Not at all," said Joey, lowering his jacket onto his side as he strode across the floor to the table to sit next to Frank.  
"But we're hungry, though!" Charlie insisted.  
"I know, but I will say this, though," Joey pointed out, "they didn't sit for very long 'cause I'm gettin' hungry again."  
"Yeah, they were scrumptious but they didn't last," added Dan, taking a seat at the foot of the bed closest to the bathroom. He set a hand on his stomach in hopes to ease the burgeoning uneasy feeling inside of him, but it was futile. The five of them were all growing hungry again, even with lunch time approaching them.  
That was four hours ago.  
Now, Scott, Dan, and Joey have ducked out of the hotel and around the corner to the alleyway behind the Moore; Frank and Charlie meanwhile are standing guard at the end to ensure no one will come around to snoop in on their business.  
"I can't believe we're having to resort to dumpster diving," Scott gripes as the three of them creep down the narrow stretch of cold gray concrete to the twin black dumpsters behind the Moore and the back door of the restaurant.  
"Well, the five of us are hungry and the food sucks, though," Dan points out.  
"Yeah, I'm gonna keep my eyes peeled for taquitos," Joey adds, grimacing at the hunger digging at him.  
"Anything with tortillas'll do," says Dan as they reach the one on the right: the edge of the lid hangs over his and Scott's heads, but it's met up with the base of Joey's head.  
"Alright, Joey, you're the tallest of the three of us—" Scott rubs his hands together. Joey fetches up a sigh, and pushes the shiny black lid closest to him back from the top. It leans up against the brick wall and they're met with a square gaping hole.  
"Not the first time I've done this," he explains as he grips onto the edge of the dumpster wall.  
"Really?" Scott raises his eyebrows at that.  
"Oh, yeah. I remember one time—" He sets his right foot on the side of the dumpster; quite tricky given the slick surface of the metal does not hold the diamond patterns of the soles of his Chucks all too well. "—back home in Oswego—a couple of my old hockey buddies and I—" He hoists his leg up onto the top of the wall. "—did some divin' behind our high school—" He lays down on his stomach on the narrow edge there. "—and we found all kindsa stuff back there—" He drops his feet down on the inside of the dumpster, right on top of a flattened cardboard box.  
"What were you guys doin'?" asks Scott.  
"Same reason here," he replies, still gripping onto the edge of the wall. "It was late at night, like eleven o'clock, and we were hungry—and Oswego being kind of the Podunk town that it is—nothing was open and neither of us could drive at that point, so it wasn't like we could go over to Rochester or Syracuse or anywhere. So we did that. I did it again when I started playing in cover bands for the exact same reason. It'd be twelve o'clock at night in like Schenectady or Watkins Glen and I'd be jonesin' for a cup of coffee and some waffles but there was only twenty bucks between me and the other three guys I'd play with."  
"What's it like in there?" Dan asks him from underneath the rim. Joey peers behind him.  
"There's some guacamole back here and a lot of empty boxes. I hope we can find something."  
He returns to Scott and Dan.  
"Alright, Scott, c'mere. Gimme your hand—"  
He steps forward and holds onto the rim of the dumpster with one hand, and reaches out for Joey's hand. Dan meanwhile, stoops down to give Scott a boost.  
"You got 'em?" asks Dan as Scott lifts one foot onto the rim.  
"Yes—" Joey grunts out.  
"You got... me?" Scott stammers as he puts his other foot on the rim and Dan puts his hands on the backs of his thighs.  
"No—!" Scott falls right onto Joey's chest and he almost loses his balance, but Joey manages to gather himself before he can fall right onto his back. Dan lingers back there before the wall as the two of them gather their bearings and proceed to snoop about the dumpster.  
"There's a burrito here," Scott points out from underneath the closed lid. Joey throws it open to give him more light.  
"Oh, hey, yeah!" His brown eyes light up at the sight of it. "There's a bunch of 'em here!" Dan watches him duck down for a few seconds and then hand a thick, heavy burrito wrapped in tin foil to him.  
"These are monsters, too!" Scott adds.  
"Who the hell would throw these out?" Dan wonders aloud, unfurling the foil to reveal the soft white flour tortilla on the inside.  
"No clue," Scott confesses with his mouth full. "Oh, God, these are full of carnitas!" He lifts his head out of the dumpster. "Hey, Frankie! Charlie! We found a gold mine here!"  
"At least we're not drunk or high as fuck," Joey points out, lifting himself up and brushing himself off. "Oh God! One time, I was playing near Seneca Falls and the other two guys I hung out with at the time smoked a bunch of pot beforehand so when by the time we were done and wanted something to eat, and, you know, at that point, I was feeling the buzz myself but they were baked out of their wits. And they were like, 'dude, Joey—we should totally eat that whole cow there.' And it was just the butcher." Dan bursts out laughing at that, and so do Frank and Charlie as they make their way down the alleyway.  
"These taste old," Dan remarks, swallowing a bite of marinated carnita mixed with some rice and beans and guacamole.  
"Yeah, they do," Joey agrees with his mouth full and his eyebrows knitted together. "Like they were sitting in the fridge for a while and then they were left out for some time."  
"That's probably why they were thrown out," Frank joins in from behind him.  
"Two day old burritos and no one was eatin' 'em," Scott concludes, ducking behind him for another one. "Here, Frankie—"  
"Here, Charlie—" Joey hands out another one. Dan takes a rather large bite. It can't reach his stomach any quicker.  
"Hey, Joey, check that out over there—" Charlie points across the alleyway; Dan follows his gesture to the low, shabby statue of what resembles an Indian accompanied with a hatchet in one hand and a headdress atop his head.  
"A cigar store Indian," Joey laughs, giving his black curls a toss back with a flick of his head, "of course!"  
"I oughtta do some polishing up on you guys," Scott says with a thoughtful tone before taking another bite.  
"Well, just call me 'Injun' 'cause I'm gonna surprise the both of them tomorrow," Joey declares, pressing his free hand to his hip.  
"I oughtta surprise 'em, too," Dan adds.  
"Danny, you should shower off real nice and stand just right to make your hair blow back with the wind," Frank suggests with his mouth full. He then swallows and shows him a mischievous grin. "Take your shirt off, too."  
"Oh, I see, be like Hercules!" Dan exclaims.  
"Yeah! But nothin' too over the top, though, y'know?"  
"Right, right."  
He thinks back to their whole spiel, in how Valentina is posing as his girlfriend. Maybe this would further that. The sole issue with that, he foresees, is everyone wondering as to why he's going shirtless right then during the round of catering.  
"Cheese it! It's the manager!" Charlie warns in a hushed voice; he, Frank, and Dan round the side of the dumpster; Joey leaps out with one hand on the rim and joins them, which in turn leaves Scott inside of there. But he dives down on the inside of the wall to remain out of sight. The back door of the restaurant swings open and the manager chucks a box full of stuff into the dumpster, right on top of Scott's head. Or so Dan thinks.  
The back door closes and the five of them wait in anticipation for a moment before Dan and Frank poke their heads out around the corner.  
"You alright, Scott?" Charlie calls as he stands to his feet.  
"Yeah, he just kinda—" The four of them rise up to find him holding the box in his hands. "—threw some old rice onto me."  
"Oh, well, forget that," Joey cracks, taking another bite of burrito.  
"Oh, yeah!"  
"Yeah, definitely..."


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"I've never seen a diamond in the flesh,  
>  I cut my teeth on wedding rings in the movies.  
> And I'm not proud of my address, in the torn up town  
> no post code envy."_  
> -"Royals", Lorde

The boys had taken the bunch of old burritos with them back to their room, and it proved to serve as their dinner for the evening. Dan figured it was better than having not eaten over the course of the evening as he munched on the marinated carnitas coupled with the rice and beans. Neither of them even knew if they would have breakfast come morning, so it only made sense to gobble up what they could eat at the moment and keep themselves full throughout the night, and awake the next morning to the next bus taking them down to Smell the Magic.  
Tonight is in fact Dan's turn to sleep on the floor in between the beds. The other alternative of course is to share the bed next to the window with either Scott or Joey and have either of the two of them smacking him in the back of the head with their feet. Even though he's sleeping alone and he reminds himself that he and Valentina are merely posing as two people in a relationship, Dan can't help but feel curious about her.  
Aside from the fact she has helped them out these past two days, there is something more to her. A secret passageway that lies in the back of her personality and is beckoning him to venture closer. Maybe it's the dark shadow hanging over the twinkle in her eyes, or maybe it's the fact she mentioned her broken home to them.  
As he lays on his side, there on the hard floor beneath the two bed frames, he imagines what it must have been like for her not too long ago. To be in a community, perhaps a rather small one given central California is quite the unknown to him, only to leave at the worst possible time ever and to put everything on hold as well. To have what she wants right before her only to watch it go up in smoke because of some ridiculous and petty nonsense beyond her control.  
It would be like sitting down to play guitar and lay down the tracks for an album only for Frank and Charlie to bicker and have it overflow to the point everything must go on hold for an indefinite time. The insanity!  
 _What_ _do I know about New Mexico_? he thinks to himself, closing his eyes to hide away from the darkness around him. _It's hot, desert, dry, has volcanoes much like the Pacific Northwest, has far more bugs and scorpions and snakes and terrifying things roaming around, history of nuclear testing, the Santa Fe hum, and all kinds of weird shit..._  
He then pictures what her dad's house could've been like there in Santa Fe, seeing as it was just the two of them. They made their own food, their own tamales, and maybe even their own tortillas. A sign of being poor and having to save so she could move up to Oregon and return to her correct path.  
And right as he's relaxing and fading out, it hits him in the form of the strongest epiphany.  
She gives to them because she lost everything. She knows what it's like to be hungry and to have no idea where or when her next meal is coming, even with the thousand dollar bricks of money in her purse. She knows what it's like to come from nothing!  
And with that, Dan falls asleep right at the same time as Scott and Joey, both of whom are sleeping head to toe in the bed in front of him.  
He awakes the next morning to the sound of Joey grumbling something to himself and Frank giggling in the bed behind him. Dan opens his eyes and rolls over onto his back, and gazes up at the ceiling for a moment. Frank continues to giggle to himself when Joey lets out a soft groan.  
Dan shuffles his head over the scratchy pillow to find Joey laying on the very edge of the bed, right over him.  
"Joey?" Dan calls, his voice breaking.  
"Hm?" Joey stirs for a second and then he falls back asleep.  
"Joey," Dan repeats, his voice louder. He clears his throat and tries again. Joey sniffles and lifts his head; a faint light shines in from the curtains behind him and thus Dan can't see his large brown eyes. Frank puts a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter.  
Joey then drops his gaze to find where he lay there on the bed.  
"Oh, shit," he blurts out, rolling back over onto his back, but then he hesitates for a moment. "Scott—?"  
Scott groans from the floor on the other side of the bed. He fell off the bed.  
Frank tries to control his laughter but can't. He bursts out laughing right then; Dan rolls his head over to find him laying face down with both arms stretched out before him.  
"Not _that_ funny, Frankie," Charlie scoffs from the wall. Frank lifts his head right then.  
"Sure it is! Scott fell off the bed and Joey was a cliffhanger."  
"Cliffhanger..." Joey's voice is low and filled with sleep. Scott groans again as he lifts himself off of the floor and clasps onto the side of the bed.  
"I dunno 'bout you guys but I'm ready for breakfast," he announces as he rubs his eyes.  
"Smell the Magic?" Frank asks, hoisting himself up onto his hands and knees.  
"Smell the Magic. Although—wait a minute, do we have enough money for the bus?"  
"Oh, shit, I didn't even think of that," Dan confesses, sitting upright.  
"I just have twenty bucks," Joey adds, setting his hands over his eyes. "We could probably break it down and high-tail it down there real quick. Laying on my side right there did... did something... to me..."  
Within time they filed out of the hotel and headed on down to the bus stop with the loose change from Joey's jeans pocket in their hands.  
Dan led the way towards the bakery there on the side of the street. Aside from the remainder of the change, about ten dollars worth, there is no money left. He notices the string of cars parked at the curb before the front door and he hopes that he can coax out something more from behind it.


	17. Chapter 17

Dan enters the bakery first, followed by Joey and then Scott, Frank, and Charlie. That silver metal grate covers the interior of the display case and Dan knows there's going to be nothing in there. That aroma of the donuts beckons him into the back room with the ovens. He leads the way back there, to the doorway to find no one's in there, either.  
Joey stands right behind him with one hand on his stomach.  
"Where are they?" Scott wonders aloud from Dan's left.  
"I don't—" Dan is cut off by Charlie, who had wandered towards the bathrooms.  
"Back here, guys!"  
The four of them follow him into the hallway, where the smell of the donuts strengthened and beckoned them outside to a round of a few tables in the alleyway. Marlene, who has her hands full of a cookie sheet full of crispy, chocolaty Napoleons, which appear to have come right out of the oven, lifts her head to greet Dan and Joey.  
"There they are!" Adrienne declares from across the table as she sets up a plate full of those fiery red donuts. She picks up the last one from the cookie sheet with two fingers as Joey darts out from behind Dan; Frank follows him, and then Charlie. Scott laughs out loud; Dan meanwhile, steps off of the back step to greet Valentina as she's assisting Marlene there at the table closest to the back door. They watch Adrienne hand the three of them a donut each.  
"The three Italian boys are hungry," Dan cracks to Valentina.  
" _Three_ Italian boys," she remarks, wiping her hands on her apron.  
"Oh, my God," Frank pleads with his mouth full, "oh my God, these are so _moist_! They fucking melt in your mouth!"  
Charlie coughs a bit, either from eating too quickly or from the presence of the chili peppers within.  
"Well, chew your food, Charlie!" Scott declares, laughing out loud. Joey might as well have swallowed his whole given he gobbled it up with such haste.  
"God, I could not get that in my stomach faster," he declares. "Is it okay if I have another one?"  
"Yeah, have as many as you want!" Adrienne consoles him. "Today's all about you five boys."  
As he picks up a second donut from the plate, he eyes her black Rush shirt underneath her apron.  
"I like your shirt," he compliments her, bringing the donut to his dark lips again; Frank reaches past him for a second himself.  
"Oh, Rush?" asks Adrienne, gesturing to her chest.  
"Yeah. You know they're one of my favorite bands."  
"Me, too!" Charlie chimes in.  
"Geddy's probably one of my biggest influences for singing," Joey continues, taking a bite of donut.  
"Really?" Adrienne takes off her latex gloves so she can put one hand into her jeans pocket. "I'd love to hear you sing.  
Meanwhile, Marlene turns to Scott with a Napoleon in hand: the morning sun makes her bob of reddish hair glow with an aura of gold.  
"Care for one?" she offers him with a smile.  
"Oh, yes! Thank you!" Scott takes the Napoleon with both hands and takes a large bite out of it.  
"I'd like one, too, please," Dan joins in, and she hands him one square pastry with chocolate on top and smooth creme inside. He then turns to Valentina with the sun washing over their heads: her black hair seems to form a halo over the crown with the bright yellow light around them.  
"So how are you this morning?" he asks her as part of his greeting.  
"The morning's been made with you guys here," she remarks, flexing her fingers inside of her latex gloves. Dan squints his eyes and shows her a kind smile in response to that; he shields his eyes with one hand to ensure that it's genuine.  
"I can't remember if I thanked you for going to Pike Place with me the other night," she confesses.  
"Don't sweat it," he assures her, taking a bite of Napoleon. The crispy, delicate pastry crunches in his mouth while the chocolate and the creme both make their way towards the back of his mouth. His mouth is full of pastry, such that he covers his mouth with one hand to make sure none of it escapes his lips. He chews it up with contemplation and swallows before taking another bite, albeit a smaller one this time.  
"Also, Val..." he begins again, covering his full mouth with one hand, "can I ask you a question?"  
"Sure." She inches closer to him.  
"And, now mind you, I hate to do this to ya—" he swallows. "—um... but we're kinda out of money."  
"Oh?" She raises her eyebrows at him.  
"Yeah. Joey broke down his twenty dollars before we left the hotel so we could take the bus down here, but I don't know how much he has left in his pocket, though. I also don't know if or when we're going to get paid for this next gig tonight."  
"You want me to give you guys some money," she follows along, raising her eyebrows in questioning.  
"If it's not too much trouble?" he continues in a low voice, out of Marlene's earshot. "Like I said, I really hate to do that to ya, but it's just to make sure we have enough to get our butts to the next tour stop, y'know? Touring's pricey, more expensive than any of us thought. And once it's done, we've gotta head on back to New York to record an album, too."  
Valentina glances over at Adrienne, Joey, Frank, and Charlie, the latter three of which had taken a seat on the curb behind the alleyway so they could eat their donuts and converse with her. She peers past Dan's head to find Scott making conversation with Marlene about something. She does in fact have those thick thousand dollar blocks of cash money in her purse, most of which are just burning a hole in her pocket at this point. And then the thought crosses her mind to make them into her puppets, her boy toys, and with Dan at the pinnacle no less.  
She shows him a thin-lipped smile as he takes another bite of Napoleon.  
"I'll do it," she confirms.  
"You'll do it?" he asks her once he swallows it down. "Oh, thank you so much. You're a godsend, Val."  
Marlene bursts out laughing right behind him.  
"And then James looks at me and Frankie and says, 'you guys gonna be sleepin' in here together or what?'" Scott says to her.  
"You talkin' 'bout the time we were bunking with Metallica?" Frank calls out from the curb.  
"Metallica and then Overkill and Nuclear Assault," Scott fills in for him.  
"Ah, yes, our friends of Nuclear Assault," Frank rejoices.  
"Frankie's filling in for Danny Lilker who's now the founder of Nuclear Assault," Scott continues.  
"And Overkill, which I was a part of," Dan adds, turning around to face him.  
"You were a part of them, really?" Marlene asks, shielding her eyes from the sun.  
"Yeah, I was one of the original guitarists and then I left after a bit to join these clowns."  
"Who you callin' a clown!" Charlie jeered from the curb and with a mouth full of donut.  
"We were just playin' in clubs all around New York City and Jersey, and doing small sets full of Motorhead and Judas Priest covers. We would play with Nuclear Assault at this little club in Brooklyn called L'Amour and we were like regulars in there, and they always gave us free drinks but they never paid us too much, though, because they were tryin' to keep themselves afloat among other things."  
"In fact, Overkill's song 'Death Rider' eventually became one of our very own songs," Scott adds.  
"Wow," Marlene remarks with a raise of the eyebrows. "So a very... tightly woven scene you guys have back East."  
"Back East and over here, too," Scott continues. "Metallica's originally from LA and now they're in San Francisco with some more friends who call themselves Exodus and a few more who call themselves Death Angel. Recently I just got a call from Dave—Dave Mustaine—telling me he's got a band of his own post-Metallica called Megadeth. We're all insecure and lonely and willing to find solace in the dark and morbid side of life and yet we all have the fiery, untamed, and unabashed passion for music. Right, Joey?"  
"Hell to the yeff!" Joey calls out with his mouth full.  
 _Insecure and lonely_. The words echo through Valentina's mind.  
Of course.  
She then taps on Dan's shoulder to gain his attention again.  
"How much would you like?" she whispers into his ear.  
"How much money?" he asks her in an equally low voice.  
"Yeah."  
"However much you wanna give away."  
She gestures for him to follow her back into the bakery; Dan keeps near to her while keeping the Napoleon in hand. She leads him into the last room on the right side of the corridor, the room where she had hung up her purse to keep it hidden from view. She peels off her gloves, and tucks them into the front pocket of her apron, and opens up the purse. Dan takes another small bite of Napoleon as she whips out a pair of those thick stacks of dollar bills, bound together by nothing more than a slender piece of white paper.  
"Man, you guys are makin' bank," he remarks upon swallowing.  
"It all sells," she confesses, "we're the hot stuff right now here in the Northwest. And it should explain why—" She hands him the stacks. "—we plan on going back East, too."  
"Thank you," he tells her with his mouth full; he takes them at the band with his free hand. "How can we ever repay you?"  
"Don't sweat it," she whispers to him, closing her purse.  
"Valentina?" Marlene calls into the corridor from the back door.  
"Coming!" She dodges past Dan and out of the room. It's not like he can hug her, anyway, with his hands tied and his mouth full.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Well, you are down making plans,  
>  well, you control all my thoughts,  
> well, you make dust fall."_  
> -"Graveyard", Butthole Surfers  
> (do not listen to that album, or Hairway to Steven for that matter, in the dark - you **will** hallucinate)

"Holy _fucking shit_ , Danny! Where'd you get all of that money?!"

Dan had taken out one of the stacks of money from his jeans pocket as the five of them made their way back to the bus stop. Their stomachs had been filled to the brim with all manner of baked goods: they're good for the rest of the day given all of those donuts and cakes have given them the most perfect and warmest of comfort. Scott gapes at him as he takes out a ten dollar bill out of the stack which will cover the five of them for a trip around downtown Seattle twice.  
"Val gave it to me," he explains, nonplussed, as the bus lumbers up to the curb. "She said don't worry about it, either."  
"God damn, you could start building a city with that kind of money," Frank cracks.  
"He probably could," Charlie adds with a chuckle and a rub of his stomach.  
"Man, they really are making bank, aren't they?" asks Joey as he stifles a belch and runs a hand through his luscious black curls.  
"And now you know why they're back East," replies Dan as the bus doors slide open before them. They step aboard and take the first seats underneath the window on the passenger side.  
All of those pastries have warmed up Dan's slim belly to of great extent: had this been a cooler day in the Emerald City, he would feel the need to curl up in one of their beds underneath the covers. But given this is a warm, lovely spring day, he lets the breeze filter in through the halfway open window next to him.  
Joey, who's seated right in front of him on the hard seat beneath the window, yawns and gives his black hair a toss back from the side of his neck.  
"Too much chocolate and chili," he remarks. "I'm sleepy. Kinda randy, too."  
"Randy?" asks Dan as he knits his eyebrows together.  
"Yeah. D'you see Adrienne was wearing a Rush shirt?" He shows Dan a small, playful smile.  
"I did, yeah. Well, if you're feeling randy, remember chocolate and chili peppers are aphrodisiacs."  
"When we get back to the room, I'm gonna have a moment to myself in the bathroom before we bounce down to the City of Roses."  
"Oh, I see," Dan follows along, shifting his weight in his seat. "You're gonna—"  
"Fire off a couple of rounds, yeah." Joey flashes him a wink.  
"Well, Adrienne _is_ a lovely woman."  
"It's too bad she's taken," Joey recalls with a sigh.  
"Oh, yeah, that's right!" Dan nods his head and shifts his weight in the seat again.  
"Yeah, and her boyfriend lives out by me, too. Out by Rochester, and—" Joey lets out a big hairy belch right then and clasps a hand over his mouth. Dan and Frank, the latter of whom is across the aisle from them, erupt in laughter along with two people right behind them.  
"Jesus, Joey!" Scott declares with a clap of his hands.  
"Damn, Joe, do that again, we'll bet on it!" Charlie chimes in.  
"Hey, at least I chewed my food," Joey teases him, and the five of them laugh together.  
They soon arrive at the hotel and make their way back to their room for a moment; Joey in particular makes his way into the bathroom first to keep his promise to Dan. Once the door is closed, Dan strides on over to the dresser to change his shirt and run a brush through his hair to look good for the show that night.  
Perhaps it's from all of the heavy, sweet food he and his band mates had eaten all morning but the warm feeling inside of his stomach has now coagulated and formed a heavy feeling within him. Too much chocolate indeed. Too much chocolate and not enough substance to maintain his strength.  
But the show must go on for the five of them. It must go through with them even as Joey slithers out of the bathroom with his hair a tousled curtain around one side of his head and a hand upon his slim belly. He lets out a low whistle and closes his eyes as he leans his back against the wall next to the bathroom door.  
"That was quick," Scott remarks, putting on his scuffed black Doc Martens over his feet.  
"Sometimes all I need is a quickie," Joey assures him as he takes a seat on the foot of the bed for a moment, right there next to Frank, who has leaned back on the bed onto his elbows. Joey unbuttons his jeans to ease his slim belly a bit, and he glances back at him Frank a second before standing up.  
"You're not gonna change your clothes, Frankie?" asks Joey.  
"Nah. I might brush my hair, but I think this is fine."  
Dan feels the discomfort rising within him but he continues to brush his hair with the cheap hairbrush. He wonders if Valentina will see them at the show tonight.  
Within time, and Dan had stashed the stacks of money in the pocket of his spare pair of jeans, all five men have prepared themselves even with all of the chocolate and things distending them from within and proceed on down to the venue for some last minute touches before leaving.  
Dan almost loses his balances striding towards the back door in return to his notepad from the first night before, but he catches himself on the edge of the door frame. Joey lets out a low whistle as he pours himself a small paper cup of water from the same pitcher as before to begin clearing up his throat.  
"I want Adrienne to knead my fry bread," he groans out from the other side of the room.  
"Knead your fry bread," Dan echoes, struggling to stifle a laugh as he makes his way within to check on his guitars and his amps.  
"Yeah." Joey takes a large gulp of water and tilts his head back to loosen up his throat muscles.   
"Kneeeeeeeeeead myyyyyyy fryyyyyyyyy breeeeeeeeeead!" he yelps out, his high, operatic voice filling out every crevice of the room. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII'm your chief tonight! AAAAAAAH!" On that last part, he raises his voice to a soaring high wail that could perhaps wake the dead at any given point.  
"What the hell is going on in here?"  
Dan and Joey turn their attention to the door, where Valentina herself stands in place with her sunglasses atop her head.  
"Oh, hey!" Dan greets her as the uneasy feeling within him settles and leaves a heavy, full feeling inside of his stomach; it doesn't help matters that Joey's vocal warm up left a slight ringing in his ears.  
"Hey, Val," Joey greets her as he takes another sip of water. "You're here early. We were just about to boogie outta here."  
"I wanted to come early to suggest something to you," she begins, putting her sunglasses into her purse.  
"Go on," Dan encourages her, taking a seat on the bench and reaching for one of his guitars leaned up against the wall, the one with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles decorated on the creamy white body.  
"How 'bout you boys come on over to my place tonight down in Lake Oswego?" she suggests. "I'd hate to see you all packed into another tiny room again like a bunch of sardines."  
"That's really sweet of you, Val," Dan tells her, tucking a strand of fine hair behind his ear. "How are we gonna get down there, though? We just have our van.”  
"Marlene and Adrienne are here, you know," she points out with a sly grin upon her lovely face.  
"Oh! Well then. Works for me."  
"Yeah, works for me, too," Joey chimes in with a grin.  
"You might wanna relay it to Scott, Frankie, and Charlie, though," Dan points out. "You know. We gotta get our stuff out of there and everything."  
"Yeah, yeah, of course!" she assures him. "Anything for my boys." Dan swears she winks at him before she departs the room. Joey stifles another belch inside of his throat and pats his slim belly that time.  
"Not bad manners," Dan points out, setting his guitar on his lap, "just good food."  
"Fuckin' right," Joey assures him, handing him a paper cup of water. "Somethin' tells me we're gonna get it even more after the show tonight."  
"In a place called Oswego no less," Dan fills in with a sly grin upon his face and a lift of the cup.  
"Oswego." Joey and Dan toast their cups before taking a sip in unison. The both of them are more than willing to let Valentina and Adrienne spoil them both to their hearts' delight, especially after the round of catering that morning.


	19. Chapter 19

Valentina grips onto the rim of the steering wheel as she drives herself, Scott, and Joey down to the northern side of Portland; Dan, Charlie, and Frank, meanwhile, are riding with Adrienne in her little red car in front of them. It's either this or traverse along this noisy freeway in that tiny shabby white van that resembles a tin can, and Scott had confessed to her that neither of them are up for spending another hour in there when there's no way they can roll down any windows in the back.  
"Not with all of our stuff back there, either," he added prior to leaving. "It's too warm of a day."  
Jonny Z made them an exception once Scott told him of their line of reasoning upon checkout time and now, here they are, hitching a ride down to Portland, back down to Valentina and Adrienne's neck of the woods.  
Scott slouches a bit in the front seat next to her, such that some of his long hair dangles down around the sides of his face and onto his chest. The large mirrored lenses of his sunglasses block out the bright yellow afternoon sunlight from his dark eyes. Even though it's quite the warm day outside, warm enough to goad Valentina into having all four windows down on the way out of Seattle, he hunkers down in the seat as if he's freezing cold.  
Meanwhile, Joey lets his black curls fly back upon the rise of the wind around him. If he had his way, he would strip off his shirt and let the wind kiss all over his toned chest and flat, warm belly, but not with Valentina there in the seat before him. Much like Scott, he hunkers down in his seat but with his head propped up against the upholstery.  
"There is no way you can be comfortable," she tells Scott in a loud enough voice for him to hear over the wind.  
"It's to keep myself out of the wind," he explains, also in a loud voice and keeping his head bowed a bit, which doesn't stop stray locks of dark hair from flying into his mouth.  
"You can always roll up the window!" she declares.  
"Nah—too nice of a day."  
Meanwhile, in the neighboring car riding before them, Frank and Charlie are conversing about something in the back seat while Adrienne and Dan are left to their own whim.  
"So... New York City," she begins once she rolls up the window next to her.  
"That's us alright," Dan tells her. "Buncha starving boys from New York tryin' ta make it in the world."  
"I assume after tonight, you guys will go back that way," she follows along.  
"We have another stop up in Vancouver and then, yeah. We return to New York for the summer months to record our new album. Which means no pastries until next time."  
"Well, you know, there's another unit in Manhattan and there might be another one somewhere upstate coming soon," she points out. "Even if Val and I aren't there, you guys'll have the pastries nearby."  
"Yeah, but—"  
"What?"  
Dan nibbles on his bottom lip. He knows he walked right into this one, and since he's in the passenger seat of a moving car, he's stuck. It doesn't help matters that the sun is beating down on his still very warm body which feels as though it's holding him down there on the seat. Adrienne takes a glimpse into her rear view mirror before she switches lanes on the freeway, and then she returns to Dan with a warm look upon her face.  
"Aw, don't tell me you like Val," she coos as a smile crosses her face. "I mean, I know you guys are going out and everything..."  
"You mean 'like-like'?" Dan asks her in order to begin bypassing the subject.  
"Yeah. It's okay if you don't, though. But if you do—"  
"You ladies just do it the best," Charlie fills in from the back seat right behind her.  
"Yeah, the two of you have some kind of magic to Smell the Magic," Frank adds.  
Dan sighs to himself out of relief. Frank and Charlie had bought him more time to feel out the feigned relationship some more. Indeed, Adrienne buys into it and never brings it up for the rest of the road trip.  
 _No pressure here_ , Dan thinks to himself at one point as he sets his arm on the top of the door. _No pressure here at all_.  
Meanwhile, in the other car, Valentina never brings it up to either Joey or Scott, simply because she knows she need not to ask. Their slouching in their seats are all she needs to know about them. She peers into the side view mirror at the sight of Joey in the back seat, where he reclines back with his hair flying around either side of his head against the wind.  
 _Like an ancient Indian chief_ , she thinks to herself.  
They arrive in Portland in a little more than an hour: Mount Hood rises up off in the distance on the eastern side of the valley, a tall cold point against the clear blue sky. Adrienne leads the way to the bakery first, much to Dan, Frank, and Charlie's surprise.  
"Wait, where are we going?" asks Dan with a worried tone to his voice.  
"Smell the Magic. I'm sure you guys have plenty of time."  
"Besides, I think our hotel is this way now that I recall correctly," Charlie points out.  
"Oh, perfect!" Adrienne squeaks. They press on down towards the center of town, and Dan sighs through his nose in hopes to relax.  
This almost reminds him of when he used to play with Overkill and in one instance, he rode around all over downtown Boston looking for a place to park. Bobby Blitz was driving and Dan rode in the front seat next to him with their guitars in the back seat behind them. Dan likened it to riding with someone who had the directions printed in utmost clarity on a fresh sheet of paper... but they were upside down. Bob sang to himself as they circumvented all through the roundabouts and the bumpy, cobblestone streets in search of a spot, any spot, up against the curb and within walking distance of the venue, a dingy dive bar. It wasn't until there were five minutes prior to the show starting when they finally did right behind the venue; and at that point, Bob almost had to drive up onto the sidewalk in the wrong direction because a truck hurtled their way.  
But here, Dan has his trust in Adrienne as they wind their way through the narrow, tight woven streets of Portland for a bit, past all of the little shops and boutiques, including a leather store and a hair salon called Curl Up and Dye. That is, until Charlie speaks up again.  
"And there's our hotel!"  
"Right across the street from the bakery, no less!" Adrienne declares. Dan's heart skips a couple of beats as he notices the large pale brick building on the left side of the street, directly across from their small, but bright lit hotel which looks more like the locker room of a community pool than a hotel.  
She pulls up to the curb and tugs on the parking lever, just as Valentina rolls up right behind her. Dan climbs out of the car first and takes a look across the way at the bright bakery with the smoky glass windows bearing the curly hot pink writing:

_**Smell the Magic,** _

_**est. 1979, Portland, Oregon**._

"So that's the original Smell the Magic?" he hears Scott ask Valentina.  
"That's the one," she replies from the driver's side as she climbs out herself. "The one Miss Sandra Black started out of her pocket during the Iran affair and stagflation, or rather when no one was looking and no one thought it would happen. It came to her as an idea when she made some cookies one day and her former coworkers thought they looked like something straight out of a sci-fi book. One of them joked about how they could smell the magic from clear across the room, and that was how it came to fruition. She hasn't looked back since then."  
She then turns to Scott and Joey.  
"Would you guys like a little nosh of something?" she offers them.  
"I'm still pretty full from earlier," Joey confesses, shaking his head.  
"Yeah, I am, too," Frank joins in from the car in front.  
"You guys wanna meet Sandra, though?" she follows it up.  
"I don't see why not," Scott replies with a shrug and the closing of the car door.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Hungry people don't stay hungry for long,  
>  they get hope from fire and smoke as they reach for tha dawn."_  
> -"New Millenium Homes", Rage Against the Machine

Valentina leads the way into the bakery first: Dan lingers right behind her, followed by Scott and Joey, and then Frank, Charlie, and Adrienne. The front room is immense, with its black and white checkerboard tiles stretched underneath the wooden shelves which uphold small boxes of elaborate, bright colored tiny handheld cakes with some kind of line of berry or chocolate on the tops. A row of pies, each of which are about the size of Frisbees, stands on the far right side of the room underneath another row of pyramids of chocolate donuts resting upon silver platters: it takes Dan a second to realize they're fake, but they bear that same fiery red glaze on the top. To his left meanwhile, stands a smooth heavy wooden parlor bar over a display case with even more decadent donuts, danishes, muffins, cakes, cupcakes, pies, and pastries, to the point Dan has a difficult time trying to resist any of them. Up against the wall behind the parlor stands a blackboard with the daily specials written in bright pink and yellow chalk; right next to the board is that black sign with the hot pink cursive writing beholding the shop title.  
Underneath the part reading "established 1979, Portland, Oregon" is the line: "has over 100 employees in Oregon, Washington, California, Nevada, New Mexico, Louisiana, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and Rhode Island."  
Dan's mouth drops open at the sight of that.  
To think that there's one in Manhattan and there will be another one headed upstate as well. Add to this, they have made their way into the Northeast. The five of them could get fat frequenting this bakery chain.  
"God, it smells heavenly in here," Charlie declares once Adrienne tugs the smoky glass door closed behind him.  
"It always does," she points out as they all congregate around the parlor bar. A young, darker skinned woman with a head full of the beginnings of dreadlocks emerges from the doorway off to the right and carrying a small cookie sheet filled with tiny square black and white cakes. She's got a henna tattoo peeking out from underneath her black shirt sleeve and a milky white pearl teardrop shaped pendant over the low neckline of her blouse; and she is of course, wrapped in that bright red apron. She shows the five of them a sly but friendly grin.  
"My goodness, we've got a party in here, ladies," she remarks turning her attention to Adrienne and Valentina; Dan spots the name tag resting upon the strap of her apron reading "Sabrina."  
"Five cutie pies from New York, Bri," Valentina points out. "Today is all about them, so whatever they eat is on me and Adrienne."  
"All of you are from New York?" she asks them.  
"All of us," Scott, Joey, and Frank reply in unison.  
"Well, I hope you boys are hungry because these little cakes just came right out of the oven," Sabrina tells them, gesturing to the cakes on the cookie sheet.  
Dan runs his tongue along his bottom lip: he still feels quite warm from their breakfast earlier and thus to see this makes him wish for a glass of milk and maybe something with a bit more substance to it. Valentina rounds the side of the parlor to offer the each of them a cake: they're small, about the size of a pickle. And she knows that giving them these will beckon them closer to her and Adrienne in particular: Sabrina's eyes sweep over the five of them like a hawk eyeing prey.  
Valentina puts on a pair of latex gloves from the box behind the bar and picks up two cakes to offer to Scott and Dan first: she holds one in each hand as if offering wine to the gods.  
"We just ate, though," Scott points out. Without another word, Valentina's eyes widen to the size of marbles. She flutters her eyelashes a bit at him even though she's not wearing any mascara to accentuate them. Her smooth bottom lip pouts out from the line of her mouth a bit. Scott nibbles on his bottom lip at the sight of her and Dan shifts his weight right there. There is no way they can resist this. This is a new-to-them bakery and everything that has brought them to this point would prove pointless if they turn back now.  
Not to mention, they ache for money. When there's no money, there's no food.  
And when there's no food, there's no way they can rise up in the world of metal.  
Dan knows it, and so do Joey, Frank, and Charlie. There's no way either of them can resist this.  
Scott sighs through his nose and picks up the slice on the left. The cake itself is marbled dark chocolate and white vanilla while the frosting on top is a smooth black and white checkerboard pattern, much like the floor underneath their feet. He holds it up to his lips and takes a whiff of the frosting first before sinking his teeth into the cake itself.  
"Oh my fucking gracious God," he groans with his mouth full.  
"Not fit to eat?" Frank jokes.  
"It's like _butter_!"  
Dan reaches for the one in her other hand and then Sabrina rests the cookie sheet on the parlor for Joey, Frank, and Charlie to take cakes for themselves. Valentina shows Dan and Joey a sly grin in particular as they hold the indulgent cakes before their mouths.  
"Bon appetit, boys," she tells the five of them.  
"Where's Sandra, by the way?" asks Adrienne as she rounds the parlor herself.  
"Sandra? She's in..." Sabrina hesitates for a moment. "...somewhere in upstate New York, I can't remember."  
"Upstate New York!" Joey declares before taking a bite of cake.  
"Upstate," Sabrina echoes with a slightly confused look on her face.  
"He's from upstate," Valentina explains.  
"Ohhhhh, it's gonna be your lucky day soon, babe," Sabrina assures him with a friendly smile and a gentle little wink. Joey nibbles on the side of the cake with his eyes closed, and without another word, the three girls duck back into the room off to the side to chat about something. Once the five of them are alone, Dan turns his head to Joey, who has his mouth full of cake and is eating at a slow, almost sensual pace.  
"I feel like we're being spoiled," Dan confesses to him in a low voice.  
"We _are_ being spoiled, dude," Joey replies upon swallowing. He takes another bite and accompanies it with a soft groan from the inside of his throat. "Breakfast, lunch, dinner..." He takes another bite so as to speak with his mouth full. "...and then some."  
Scott takes a second bite of cake for himself and this time, he bows his head to the top of the parlor. Frank and Charlie bide a toast with their cakes before following it up with another bite in unison. Dan tips his head back as he has another slow bite for himself.  
"We could use like... coffee or milk or something," Frank remarks as he swallows it down.  
"Glass of fucking icy cold milk, _yes_!" Scott declares still keeping his head bowed to the parlor.  
"So you guys are gonna be playing here in Portland tonight?" asks Sabrina from the doorway; they each turn their attention to find her folding her arms over her chest.  
"Yes, we are," says Charlie before taking one final bite for himself.  
"Are the three of us invited?" she continues.  
"If you wanna come," replies Scott with his mouth full.  
"I'll ask Marlene," Adrienne tells them.  
"The more, the merrier," Dan declares.  
 _Like shooting fish in a barrel_ , Valentina thinks to herself. _Totally like shooting fish in a barrel_.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Howling winds keep screaming round,  
>  and the rain comes pouring down.  
> Doors are locked and bolted now  
> as the thing crawls into town."_  
> -"Night Crawler", Judas Priest

"Oh my God, what a show!" Sabrina declares, clapping her hands together. It's five minutes after the fact, and she, Valentina, Adrienne, and Marlene are congregated in the dressing room of the third floor. They had played at Arlene Schnitzer, a good sized theater in downtown Portland that houses about two thousand people and carries sound in such a way that the four of them could've been up in the nosebleeds in the balcony and heard Joey enunciate every word with his upstate accent. The five of them, meanwhile, sweated like they never had one time over the course of the tour.

Joey hangs his tongue out of his mouth like a dog panting in heat. Scott lets out a long low whistle as he gives the hair on the side of his glistening neck a toss back. Frank rubs his eyes with two fingers on each hand. Dan groans and raises his arms over his head. Charlie peels off his shirt to reveal his lanky slender body.

"You sure were working hard," Adrienne compliments Joey as he binds his hair back behind his head with a little black hair tie from the arm of the couch before the window.

"I try my best," he says in a broken voice. "I am so thirsty right now..."

"Is there any water in that pitcher?" Dan asks Marlene, who's over by the miniature fridge, where there stands a glass pitcher behind a few stacks of red cups. She picks it up by the handle to reveal the basin to him.

"Not a lot," she confesses, swirling the bit of clear water on the inside. She raises a finger at him and then ducks back out of the door to fetch some more for them.

"So, in a little bit," Valentina begins, taking a seat on the couch next to Joey and Frank, "shall we head on back to my place down in Oswego for some dinner?"

"Sure," Scott replies as he strives to catch his breath, "just so long as we make our way back to the hotel before Jon notices."

"Always," she declares, leaning back against the back of the couch cushion and showing both him and Frank a grin. Joey tilts his head back onto the top of the couch and in turn shows off the inside of his neck and his Adam's Apple to Adrienne. Valentina watches her dark eyes scan over his body as if she's examining a fine specimen. She knows that it's all about to fall into place soon, especially once Marlene returns with a pitcher of water.

"Jesus, I'm beat," Dan blurts out as he takes a seat on the floor down by Valentina's right ankle. He stretches out his legs before him and the bottom cuff of his jeans rises up from his ankles, which in turn reveals his white socks. Valentina pictures him with pink and blue striped stockings underneath those jeans. Maybe once she has Joey taken care of, she can spoil Dan in every which way imaginable. He leans back against the arm of the couch, right next to the leg of her pressed black jeans and her crisp clean black Chuck Taylors.

Marlene soon returns to the room with the glass pitcher filled with clean crisp looking water.

"Here, boys," she beckons them.

"They're all exhausted beyond belief, Marlene," Sabrina jokes as she stands close to Charlie, who had slung his damp shirt over his bare shoulder and looks at her like a prince, even with lines of beads of sweat forming underneath his eyes. He pushes a lock of his dark nappy hair up from his eyes for a better look at her.

"Drinks all around," he declares with a nod to his head.

Marlene does the honors with pouring each of them a red cup full of that cool crisp water. Scott takes the first cup and downs the whole thing in almost one fell swoop; Valentina keeps her eye on the crown of Dan's head right underneath her thigh as he takes a big gulp. Perhaps all of those baked goods they had had all through the course of the day had done more than its share for each of them: they weren't sweating like this the other night in Seattle. Then again, they brought down the house tonight. Joey never sang so hard and Charlie may as well as have run a marathon that evening.

Joey and Frank slouch in the cushions next to her with their cups pressed against their chests. Scott paces about the room for almost no reason in particular. Dan yawns as he takes another sip from his cup. Charlie wipes a bead of sweat from underneath his left eye.

"Yeah, you boys are tired," Marlene remarks, setting the pitcher back down on the shelf next to the fridge and pressing her hands to her hips.

"Just wanna shower off and then go to dinner and go to bed," Frank confesses with a chuckle.

"I hear ya on dinner, Frankie," Scott remarks; Sabrina shows Charlie a friendly little smile as he takes a seat on the floor next to Dan. Both men cross their legs for a second before Dan realizes it’s too hot to do that.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a shower,” Dan quips, tossing his hair back from the side of his neck and scratching the crown of his head with one finger.

“Oswego’s just right down the road from here,” Valentina points out. She turns to Joey on the other end of the couch, right there to Frank’s left. “Would you like front row seat, Mr. Joey?”

“Oh you know I’d love that,” he says with a sigh of relief before he takes another sip of water.

******************************

Joey rides in the front seat of Valentina’s car with the window rolled down. Dan is in the back seat right behind him and right next to Frank: the both of them also with the window rolled down. The cool crisp moist air from the lake spreads over their skin which in turn sends a slight shiver down both of their spines.

In the darkness and the occasional glimmer from the headlights of Adrienne’s car behind them, Valentina has a thin lipped smile upon her face. Closer and closer, she will have her way with both of these men soon enough, and in the comfort of her own home no less. Marlene had returned home, while Sabrina, Scott, and Charlie are with Adrienne. 

The perfect opportunity for a little party of sorts.

She rolls along the two lane road towards her apartment complex overlooking the smooth pitch black waters and some of the dark hills dotted with the occasional golden porch light. The town is buttoning down for the night. The three men are totally silent still even as she parks in the garage downstairs from her place. Adrienne pulls up into the spot next to her.

Once he rolls up the window, Joey climbs out of the front seat first, followed by Dan and then Frank. Dan’s head spins upon standing out of the car. He holds a hand to his forehead in hopes of catching himself. But the nausea pervades him from within: too much sugar and not enough food to stick to his ribs. Add to this, he worked up a bit of sweat that evening. He can’t resist it pulling him down towards the pavement.

And the last thing he recalls is Joey and Scott lunging to catch him. But it’s too late: he blacks out there in the parking garage.


	22. Chapter 22

Dan awakens to the sight of the cottage cheese making up the ceiling; something cold and damp rests upon his forehead. It takes him a second to realize that it's a washcloth. He rolls his head over the soft pillow and the edge of the couch arm. He blinks several times to make his vision come back in clarity. There's a small wiry black coffee table with a glass top right next to his side. He makes out the sight of a weave basket in the middle of it holding a bouquet of red and white lilies. Or perhaps, he figures, they're phony flowers.

Fake or not, that is the least of his problems at the moment.

He reaches up to his eyes to wipe away the rest of the sleep in them. And then he sits upright for a better look about the room. On the opposite wall is a small black television upon a small white dresser with three drawers; next to that is a wide window with a heavy looking Indian blanket hanging from the curtain rod over the top, which in turn blocks out the bright sunlight. There is no clock in this room, and Dan has no idea if that smell of coffee is from earlier or what.

The crown of his head and back of his neck itches and he remembers that he hadn't taken a shower at all the night before.

"Hey, there he is," Scott says from behind him. Dan turns his head to find him ambling into the room in just his shorts and his socks.

"What time is it?" he asks Scott.

"Six-forty."

"I slept all day!" he sputters, stunned.

"Nah," Scott replies, unperturbed. "Nah, you didn't. It's just early."

"Oh." He breathes a sigh of relief before he takes another glimpse about the room.

"So we stayed here all night long?"

"Yeah. Which means we've gotta boogie back to Smell the Magic before Jon wakes up. It was weird, Danny, it was like Sabrina saw your eyes roll up into your head and you landed on the pavement. Frankie and I helped him lug you onto the couch here, and then the four of us each took a shower and went to bed. We didn't even have dinner last night."

"Well, fuck." Dan frowns and knits his eyebrows together at the sound of that. "Was it because of me?"

"Kinda," Scott replies with a shrug of his shoulders and a flip of his hair. "It was mainly 'cause of the fact Val didn't really have much to eat for the bunch of us, and Adrienne and Sabrina didn't feel like driving back into town and gettin' somethin'. So the two of them went back home, and then we bathed one after the other, and then called it a night 'cause it was gettin' kinda late at that point. I slept on the floor of Val's room while Frankie and Charlie slept head to toe in her guest bedroom, and Joey was right here on the floor in front of ya. He told us that since he tried to catch you, he'd sleep here and make sure that when you woke up, you'd have someone to wake up to."

"Where is he now?" asks Dan, peering around the room for a third time.

"Joey? He and Frankie went out to get breakfast about ten minutes ago." Scott strides over to the back of the couch and raises his arms over his head to stretch his back. "I woke up 'round then and Joey told me you hadn't woken up yet, and last night, Val gave him a bit of money to buy breakfast. So—" He holds out his arms as if imitating a crucifix. "—here I am. I just made a pot of coffee if you'd like some."

"Is Val awake?" Dan strides around the arm of the couch for a glimpse down the hall.

"Not as far as I know, no. Charlie just woke up, though, so if you wanna shower—and I'm sure ya do, after all that sweatin' last night and then layin' on the dirty pavement—get on it, Danny."

Without another word, Dan peels off his shirt and ducks down the hall to the bathroom before Charlie can make a move for himself right then.

He takes off his pants and his shorts, and steps into the bathtub, and switches on the water. The sole shampoo in here is a small bottle of that general soapy kind one finds in a hotel bathroom. It will have to do.

Dan puts a little bit into his palm and rubs his hands together for the beginnings of a lather. As he's washing himself down, he can't help but think about what's next for them. Going back to New York and making that new album, but perhaps these three girls would like to join in the fun with them? Shops there in Manhattan and elsewhere in the Northeast: surely there has to be potential for transferring on Val's part in particular. He can't help but think of the possibilities there with these three girls.

And then there's Adrienne. Adrienne and her relationship.

Perhaps, since her boyfriend and Marlene's husband are from upstate, there's a little more the simple connection of a new bakery moving there?

Dan makes a mental note to ask Valentina about it once he rinses the lather out of his hair. His feathery bangs stick to his forehead and his eyebrows as if glued on: he stands right underneath the shower head with his eyes snapped shut. His stomach begins to ache with hunger after standing there for a good long minute to rid his hair of any more filth. He shuffles around on the bath mat and tilts his head back for a better rinsing.

Soon he washes down his little but toned body with the white washcloth there on the rung next to him and the soft smelling bar soap.

Within time, he climbs out of the tub for a good drying off and a return into his clothes. Dan strides out of the bathroom and back down the hall to find Joey and Frank having returned with pancakes and Belgian waffles from a nearby diner; the latter sets down the bags with the white boxes on the kitchen table while the former pours himself a cup of coffee without skipping a beat. Upon the sight of breakfast, and entering the small dining room fused with the kitchenette, Dan's stomach aches even more. He notices Joey putting his free hand on his flat belly as if he, too, is in utter agony from the lack of eating.

"You, too?" Dan asks him as he wraps the towel atop his head to keep his hair off of his neck.

"On the walk back, I told Frankie I was about ready to chase something down and kill it," Joey confesses, wincing at the pain in his stomach. He takes a sip of coffee as Valentina herself enters the kitchen, wrapped in a hot pink silk bathrobe with her name embroidered on the left lapel: Dan notices a heart circumscribed around her name. She looks as though she had gone to sleep and woken up with a beauty face mask on: she does not look the least bite tired or groggy.

"I thought I smelled breakfast," she declares as Frankie hands her a white box with a couple of Belgian waffles. "Why, thank you!"

Dan then clears his throat as Joey lunges past him for his own stack of pancakes.

"Hey, Val, can I ask you a question?" he begins as he adjusts the towel atop his head.

"Yes?" she replies with a raise of the eyebrows. He motions for her to come in closer to his face and she does: he can smell a soft perfume still riddled upon the side of her neck. He knows it's from the top of her pillow. To think all night long he has been laying within this close range of her bed and her bedroom. He eyes the sliver of skin exposed by the meeting of her robe lapels: her hands are full with this box of breakfast and Joey is standing right there so it's not like he can go out of his way to touch her.

And it's not like she can go out of her way to touch him.

"So what's the situation with you and the bakery? I mean, I know there's gonna be one in upstate New York and there's one in Manhattan, but like—is there any way you can come back East at any given point in the future?"

"Like, transfer?" she follows along in a soft voice.

"Yeah."

"Maybe. Why. You can't get enough of your heart so valentine here?" She smirks at him.

"Just curious. You've been so nice to us these past few days. I kinda wanna stay in touch. And I know my brothers from other mothers behind you here would wanna do the same, too." He turns his head to his left. "Right, Scott?"

"Huh?" Scott asks with his mouth full of decadent Liège waffle and fluffy butter: he's leaning against the edge of the table right next to Joey, who had taken his seat there to drink his coffee and shovel his thick stack of light and fluffy pancakes.

"We wanna stay in touch with darling Valentina here," Dan quips.

"Oh, absolutely!"

"Hell yes!" Frank declares as he takes a bite of pancake accompanied with a fine drizzling of maple syrup.

"Is that a rhetorical statement?" Joey teases him.

"And let me guess," she retorts, opening the box lid which in turn reveals the twin crispy, browned Belgian waffles on the inside accompanied with a dollop of fluffy white butter and a small vessel of syrup; Dan notices underneath the waffles are two patches of crispy golden hash browns. The smell only makes his stomach ache even more. "You guys also wanna stay in touch with Adrienne, Sabrina, and Marlene, too?"

"Well, of course," Frank points out as he looms next to them to pour himself a cup of coffee. "They've been as important to us this whole time as you have. So it only makes sense."

"And Adrienne and Marlene have a connection to upstate New York, too," Joey adds, taking a sip of coffee.

"That's right!" Frank declares, his face lighting up at the sound of that.

"So what do ya say?" Dan asks Valentina again as she watches Frank return to his seat next to Joey at the table. He has a burning desire to hold onto her hands but he can't because she's still holding onto the base of the box and the aroma of the waffles and the hash browns is utter torture for him at this point.

"The four of us might have to do some talkin' first but I think it's doable," she assures them; she returns to Dan for a flash of a wink at him. "If nothing, let's all exchange numbers so we can—you know. Hear each other's voices again."

"Oh, excellent!" he says, flashing her two thumbs up. "Now, where's my box? I'm dyin' here."

"Let's make this quick, too," Scott reminds him with his mouth full, "Jonny Z could wake up soon and we've gotta boogie back to the hotel."

"What the hell is goin' on in here?" Charlie asks upon entering the kitchen and rubbing the residual sleep from his eyes.

"There he is!" Frank exclaims.

"We'll explain in a bit, Char," Scott tells him as he takes another bite of waffle. "Have some of these waffles before they get cold. They're astonishing!"


	23. Chapter 23

After checking out of their hotel, which came soon after arriving back at the lobby just before Jonny had woken up in his room upstairs, the boys had ridden up to Vancouver in their tiny aluminum can of a van for the next gig. Even though Dan still has that thick stack of money bound by the paper, the one that Valentina had given to him, he still can’t help but think that something is in fact missing from there. 

She’s not there. She’s still back there in Lake Oswego, probably getting dressed for work today. She is alone in her apartment at the moment.

He only recalls getting her number and then telling her goodbye there outside of her front door and hanging there for a second as if not knowing what to do next. He nibbled on his lip and then backed off to hitch a ride with Sabrina back into Portland. And then the whole time there, he watched the tension mounting between her and Charlie, the latter of whom had to make a concerted effort to keep his hands to himself. Or at least, that’s what Dan saw from the backseat there, nestled tight in between Frank’s long legs and Joey’s rib cage.

Like a bunch of sardines yet again. And then it was even more awkward once they all but stumbled out of the backseat onto the sidewalk and had to bustle back to their room before any of them had the chance to bide her adieu.

As they approach the Canadian border, Dan closes his eyes and envisions Valentina in her bedroom. All alone in her room.

He shakes his head.

No. I shouldn’t think that, he thinks to himself as he shakes his head. I barely know Val—why would I wanna sleep with her?

But he keeps on thinking about it: the thought of her changing her clothes, slipping on some kind of lingerie underneath her uniform to look good again for her own benefit. She smells good and fresh, like she had showered herself just prior to stepping out for the day.

He begins to think of what her bra and panties might look like.

He shakes his head again, especially upon recollection of the initial feelings he had had when the two of them went grocery shopping at Pike Place the other night. Maybe those are false, too.

Or maybe not. One simply doesn’t take someone along for a round of grocery shopping for the fuck of it. Maybe she does like him, but she never admitted it once to him, but why?

He fetches up a sigh when he thinks he’s nothing more than overthinking all of this.

If only I can shut up my mind for a while, he thinks to himself.

Shut up his mind. If only Valentina’s presence had allowed that when they were together...

But with each passing mile, and each passing moment, and each passing moment his stomach cradles the pancakes he had eaten earlier, the more it grows apparent to him. He thinks of her even as they reach the gates into British Columbia: just something about the cool, crisp morning sun shining over the cold concrete and the scraggly trees on the side of the road makes him want to recede back into a corner of Smell the Magic with another donut and a cup of coffee.

All the donuts. All the tamales. All the comforts he could ever ask for, and all the comforts the five of them could ask for themselves all together. Then again, whenever she served them food, Dan did shut up his mind. He focused on the food each time: he never thought about why she did it, and when he did, it always came after the fact.

Of course! It all came from her serving and helping him. All of it. All of it, courtesy of her, and Adrienne, Marlene, and Sabrina as well. Perhaps those three ladies would want to join in on the fun and make it a group effort in continuing to help them. But Adrienne already has a guy, and he’s the son of Marlene’s guy. Sabrina meanwhile seems like a complete enigma to him: who knows what she could be like.

At some point in the drive to the next hotel in downtown Vancouver, the whole situation makes Dan shake his head and bring a hand to his face. He can’t have Valentina even if he wanted, and her colleagues are taken: so much for any other option.

“What’s up with you, Danny?” asks Frank.

“Head hurts a little bit,” he replies without missing a beat.

“There’s a big jug of water waiting in the hotel room,” Jonny explains as they roll into the hotel parking lot.

Within time, they check into the room, another small room with only two beds. At least this time around, it’s only one night and this is followed by a flight back home to New York.

Indeed, there’s a couple of glass pitchers filled with clean, crisp-looking on the table next to the TV and some fresh paper cups. Joey doesn’t hesitate to pour himself as well as Dan a cup each. Before he can bring the rim up to his dark lips, he pauses for a gaze on at Dan.

“What’s up?” asks Dan. Joey leans forward and gestures for him to move in closer to remain out of earshot of Scott, Frank, and Charlie.

“I want Adrienne to knead my fry bread,” he whispers into his ear.

Dan scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Joey, come on, man. You’ve said this before... the more you say it, the less likely I foresee it actually happening. Besides, you know she’s taken.”

“I actually mean it this time, though, Dan,” Joey insists. “I don’t care if she’s taken, either.”

He swallows and bows his head for a second: Dan watches him take a drink of water with his eyes shut. Joey then lifts the paper cup over the front of his head to pour the rest onto his inky black curls.

“Damn it all to hell,” he mutters, shaking his head; Dan squints his eyes at the feeling of residual water flying onto his face.

“Joe imitatin’ a dog over there?” Scott cracks, and Charlie bursts out laughing.

“Dirty, dirty dog,” Joey breathes with his head bowed. Dan gapes at him as he lifts his head for a look through his damp ringlets. Joey’s brown eyes have a certain twinkle to them, one that makes Dan think of burning lava and fire. His dark lips parting as he breathes harder only makes it more apparent to him.

Indeed, they arrive at rehearsal within the hour, Joey screeches as part of his loosening up his vocal cords, but there’s something about them even as Dan stands off to the side and practices playing a new song which they’re calling “Medusa.”

Dan lifts his head in time to find Joey closing his eyes and making a sound that resembles to an orgasm. Dan glances around to make sure no one else hears him: they’re the only souls in this back room of the backstage area.

His flat stomach caves in and pokes out as he prepares his lungs for their full capacity later on. He breathes hard and heavy, as if he had running around a hockey rink as fast as he could. He bows his head for a second to let his black hair obscure his face for a second, and then he tosses his head back to reveal his eyes shut and his mouth agape.

Like the male version of Medusa, but without the guaranteed death glare.

Dan examines the inside of Joey’s neck as he tilts his head back and lets out a soft groan, one that sounds even more aroused than that first sound.

“Are you alright, Joe?” Dan finally asks him as he lays his fingers across the fretboard to silence the strings. Joey opens his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair to keep it off his neck and his shoulder.

“I am,” he begins, his voice low, “so—fucking—aroused right now.”

“For Val or Adrienne?”

“Both. But mostly Adrienne. I really don’t give a flying rodent’s behind if she has a dude, either.”

“I should also add,” Dan points out, rubbing his nose with his free hand, “we haven’t all day, either. Not since we had breakfast at Val’s place either.”

“No food for the most part and no touching,” Joey says, growing a bit flustered, “I really don’t care if she’s with a guy.”

Dan paused for a second as Joey fixes himself and lifts into an upright position. His brown irises burn into Dan’s mind like cigarettes.

“I want her, Danny. I want her so fucking bad, that I just—I just—“

And without another word, Joey unzips his snug denim jeans and reaches down. Dan gapes at him and the sight of nothing more than the top of his flat metal wristband exposed out from above the waist.

“I have to do it, Danny,” Joey assures him in a hushed voice, “I have to. Excuse me—“

He ducks back behind the wall for a moment alone. Dan sits there with his guitar resting upon his lap and his mouth hanging wide open. Maybe if he focuses on it and overthinks more like what he started to do in the van, he can muster the same feeling. Or perhaps it’s from the fact Joey has his eye on two girls while Dan just has Val on his radar. Maybe he’ll take the time to himself once they’ve eaten later on. He was starting to have those thoughts.

If Joey has a hard time resisting, who says he won’t have a difficult time himself?

One way or the other, tonight’s show will be quite the interesting one given the girls aren’t here and Joey and Charlie are so horny, it just might drive them crazy. Add to this, Dan just has that money Valentina gave him to last them all the way to their return trip to New York.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"My boy's being sus' and he don't know how to cuss,  
>  he just sounds like he's tryna be his father. (Who are you?)  
> My boy's an ugly crier but he's such a pretty liar,  
> and by that I mean he said he'd 'change'."_  
> -"my boy", Billie Eilish (fuuuuuuuuck I love that song)

"That..." Charlie states upon giving forth an exhausted but contented sigh, "was quite the show, if I might say so myself."

It's about twenty minutes after having taken a shower in the nearby locker rooms there in the dressing area, and the boys are back in their hotel room with their long hair dripping wet but smelling clean. Dan had dared not tell either Scott or Charlie or even Frank for that matter about what had happened just prior to show time, and he knows Joey won't dare tell them, either.  
At least he hopes that's the case. He couldn't hear a thing over the whistle of the shower heads down there and he sure as anything couldn't bear to look at anything behind him.

He saw it as _nothing to see here, ladies an' gentlemen. Just five poor guys showerin' together_.

And they still hadn't eaten dinner yet!

Dan ducks behind the bathroom with haste to change into a clean shirt and some shorts. He can't stop thinking about Valentina. Since it's getting late, he knows she must be turning in for the night. As he slips on his bright yellow shorts, he thinks about the silk robe she wore that morning.

 _No_ , he thinks to himself, tugging his shirt over his body. _No, I can't. I can't be. I can't. I can't. She was just a helper. There's no way. There's no. Fucking. Way_.

_Surely Joey has his own guilt to deal with, liking Adrienne. And maybe Scott has his eye on Marlene at the moment. It could be worse. And then there's also Charlie and his liking Sabrina, and who knows about Frankie._

_Maybe I'm just confused. Maybe I'm just amazed_.

But the thoughts about Valentina baking a cake of some sort and then taking a shower herself persist within his mind. She's naked, completely naked, drenched in warm water and smelling good and soft and clean herself. Maybe she still has a lingering bit of those baked goods in her hair like he noticed on the first day in the bakery.

There's that stack of money in his other shorts, too.

Maybe he is in fact "confused."

He is so absorbed within his own thoughts that he neglects the sound of a knocking on the door panel to his left.  
It startles him in such a way that he lunges back from the edge of the counter.

"Hey, Danny, can ya hurry up?" Scott calls through the panel. "I really gotta take a piss and Frankie's not helping matters, either—"

"Okay, okay, okay..." Dan sputters, running his hands over the crown of his wet hair. A warm blush blooms over his face, such that being in this small bathroom long enough could beckon a hearty sweat. He holds onto the doorknob and flings the door open to find Scott standing there with his arms folded over his chest; he's also met with Frank and Charlie erupting in bold laughter and Joey muttering something to himself.

Dan slips past Scott, who in turn slides into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him. He looks over at Frank and Charlie, who are both sitting on the bed closest to him, and then over at Joey, who's over on the edge of the opposite bed and peering out the window.

"What's goin' on out here?" asks Dan.

"Joey's havin' a moment and we're makin' fun of him," Charlie quips without missing a beat.

"The girls down south broke our Injun!" Frank cracks and follows it up with a howl of laughter.

"They didn't break me!" Joey insists in a broken voice, looking over his shoulder: Dan can see a faded pinkish splotch on his cheekbone.

"Come on, Joe, the way you were singin' tonight sounded like you and Adrienne were having an intimate moment together," Charlie says with a sly smirk plastered on his oval face.

"Hey, you were practically tryin' to stop yourself from touching Sabrina, Charlie," Joey scoffs, shifting around on the top of the bedspread to face them. He leans over the top of the bed so as to lay on his elbow as if posing to be a model. "I watched you from the back seat when we were comin' up to Portland this mornin'."

"Hey, at least Sabrina's not taken," Charlie points out.

"Yeah, well..." Joey hesitates for a second, fluttering his eyelids and letting his tongue slither out of his lips as he strives to think of the right words. "Well... well..."

"Well, well, well?" Frank teases him with a chuckle.

"That's a Plastic Ono Band song, isn't it?" Scott calls out from the bathroom.

"It sure is!" Joey declares, his voice breaking even more. "Besides, Scott likes Marlene and she's fuckin' married!"

"Hey, don't be bringin' me into this now!" Scott scoffs, his voice echoing off of the bathroom walls.

"C'mon, Scott, you're as important as any of us," Dan insists, wiping his hands together. There's a knock on the door and he doubles back to answer it. Jonny Z pokes his head into the room with a serious look upon his face.

"Hey, guys, it's past curfew—keep the noise level down."

"But we're just havin' a good time, Jon," Scott assures him, still from the bathroom.

"Knock the shit off or I'll slap ya naked and hide your clothes," he warns.

"All of us?" Joey teases.

"All of you," Jonny retorts, wagging his finger at him. "I mean it. No loud parties, not on our budget." He returns back out to hall and shuts the door behind him. Scott ambles out of the bathroom and flips a bit of his dark hair back from his collar.

"Guess we better call it a night you guys," he says with a shrug of his slender shoulders.

"We haven't eaten dinner, though," Joey recalls.

"Everything's closed," Scott points out with another shrug. "Another night of goin' to bed hungry. At least we're not chock full of sugary shit, though."

"Pfff, yeah, I'll say," says Dan with a snicker and a shake of his head. "I don't think I ever passed out like that like I did last night. It was weird as hell... oh! Who's sleepin' on the floor tonight?"

"Nose goes!" Joey calls out, and he touches the tip of his Roman nose with two fingers. Dan and Charlie follow suit with touching the tips of their noses, so does Scott, which in turn leaves Frank to touch his nose last.

"Damn it," he groans.

"Best two out of three," Charlie declares, and they do it again, and once again, Frank is last. He fetches up a sigh and sinks down onto the floor right between the beds. The sleeping bag had already been laid out there as Dan strides over to the bed before the window. Joey lifts off of the bedspread and slips underneath the covers with his head by the headboard; Dan crawls under the covers such that his head is facing in the opposite direction. Scott and Charlie do the same on the other bed; the latter raises his hand under the lampshade to turn out the light.

"Besides, where would Jon hide our clothes in here?" asks Frank as he lays his head down on the pillow. But no one answers that question, especially once the room is engulfed in darkness. Dan lays his head down on the foot of the bed, right down by Joey's bare feet and slim ankles. He hopes he doesn't wake up feeling kicked in the head. But he also continues to think about Valentina, and if she's all alone.

Meanwhile, down in Lake Oswego, Valentina can't hardly fall sleep because she knows Dan and the boys are up there in Vancouver, and she knows they're in good hands up there. But the other reason she can't hardly fall asleep is because she knows it's all going to come together very soon.

She has the plan figured out down to the most thorough of details in mind and even ran it by Adrienne and Sabrina earlier that day during their lunch breaks: they're going to ask Marlene and Sandra for a bit of time off to head back East to the bakeries there in Manhattan and upstate, but they're not going to ask at the same time because that would resort in the bakeries here in the Northwest closing for a while and thus resulting in lost wages all around.

Determining who would vouch for the trip east first was something neither of them could figure out right away.

Three women.

A trio working their way in between a quintet who are aching for money with hopes of making it huge in the world of music. Granted, there is five of these men and only three of them, but it has happened before. Valentina actually saw it happen with her own eyes back home in New Mexico and in Nevada, too.

She recalls from the warm, but comfortable afternoons following a thunderstorm in her days after high school, when she would sit on her father's back porch with a glass of pink lemonade. She would sit right next to a potted beavertail cactus, in all of its full bloom glory with its lovely magenta flowers over the prickly pear segments, and watch a single little hummingbird dribble up the nectar out of most of those flowers, one right after the after. She also recalls from those beautiful spring days in northern Nevada, when she would go outside to play and overhead soared a duo of red-tailed hawks as they hunted down mice in the nearby field of sagebrush.

Numbers don't mean a thing when hunger is involved.  
Numbers don't mean a thing when the primal instincts are activated.  
Numbers don't mean a thing... when there's good intentions and a good boy involved. The cactus was good, as were the mice. And they're all good, especially Dan.

She knows it can happen, but only if they give themselves up to the three of them.

Marlene can perhaps have her moment in the sun as well with Scott, that is if she wants it to happen. She knows Marlene's marriage is not as glorious as she wants it to be, and that they can prove to be the relief for her as she so desperately wants. And Valentina can sense it. Indeed, she senses it so much that she rolls over onto her back and gazes up at the dark ceiling.

It all needs to come together, but one of them has to draw the straw.

She came here to the Northwest all alone. Granted, her mother is nearby but she took the flight from Albuquerque solo.

Valentina sighs through her nose and sits upright in bed. Her breasts are hugged by her soft white camisole that smells of cinnamon. She thinks of how Dan smelled there in the bakery, and again when they were shopping together at Pike Place. Wavy locks of hair dangle down onto her chest and she thinks of Joey and Frank.

A thin lipped smile crosses her face when she thinks about it.

She swings her legs over the edge of the bed and switches on the tiny lamp on the nightstand. 

To think they were just here in her apartment, showering and spending the night and eating breakfast in her kitchen.

She reaches for the phone on the nightstand and dials Adrienne's number.

It rings once, twice, three times.

"Hello?" she answers in a hushed voice: she must be in bed.

"Hey," Valentina greets her.

"Val? What're you doin' calling so late? I was about ready to go to bed."

"I'll go first," she says.

"You'll go back East first?" Adrienne follows along, slightly stunned.

"Yeah."

"Well, it's funny you say that, 'cause I got off the phone with Marlene a little while ago..."

"Uh-huh?"

"And she volunteered to go back East to take care of Joey for you."

"She did?"

"Yeah. Which means we're gonna be without a boss lady for a while, but you know."

"Do it vicariously I see?"

"Exactly! When she's done, she'll call us up. She told me that since Joey's the front man, he's an easy target. And she'll do it first."

"Alright. Let's get these boys around our fingers! You sleep tight for me, Adrienne."

"And you sleep tight for me, too, Miss Tasty." Adrienne makes a kissing sound on her end prior to hanging up. Valentina hangs up as well, and feels satisfied as a result.

It's all about to go according to plan.


	25. Chapter 25

“It’s always good to be back in New York,” Scott declares as the five of them step out of JFK Airport and into the rainy evening. It had been a long flight back home from Vancouver on the remaining allotted money on their budget. And Dan still hadn’t told Jonny Z about the brick of money in his other jeans pocket. He decided that their manager need not know about what had gone down between them and Valentina, especially with all of the overthinking Dan had been dealing with this whole time. Their manager need not know about any of outside money, especially since there is no way to know if more will be coming for them.

Jonny Z had ridden behind both Dan and Joey on the first stint of the flight, from Whistler to Winnipeg, so neither of them could speak about Valentina or Adrienne. Every time Dan thinks about how Joey has such a burning interest in the latter, perhaps more than Valentina, he can’t help but laugh to himself. It makes him think of another time back when he still played with Overkill, and Bob pointed out the one woman in the audience and how she kept looking at Dan as he stood there on the edge of the stage with his oversized guitar and oversized tie-dye shirt. The reflection of the memory makes Dan blush because Bob said something like “this one married chick over here won’t take her eyes off Danny over here!”

Indeed, Dan thinks it may have had to do with the fact that he’s as small as he is and his shirt and guitar both dwarfed him to where he resembled a little boy. But he thinks about it so much that Joey started laughing at the reddish blush blooming in his face.

That was merely the first stint of the flight back home to New York City.

On the second part, that is from Winnipeg to Toronto and then Toronto to New York, Dan, Joey, and Frank were seated together near the back of coach class, about three rows back from Jonny, who napped the whole time, and two rows and across the aisle from Scott and Charlie.

Frank confessed to Dan and Joey about the incident in the bathroom in Seattle, where he had eaten out Valentina after they had all eaten out together. Joey gaped at him such that the straw he drank orange juice out of spun right out from his dark lips.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us, Frankie?” Dan demanded in a hushed voice.

“Well, if you guys are gonna get serious in this whole long distance thing, you oughta know, Danny,” Frank pointed out with a shrug. “I don’t want us to have a Yoko on our hands. You know?”

Dan sighed through his nose. He figured there could’ve been worse things, like the one woman in the audience at the Overkill audience who told Bob and Dan both that the next round of drinks for the bunch of them and Nuclear Assault were on her. Right, and now L’Amours is still having to make up for the two grand they lost that night.

That woman had led them on but in hindsight, Dan can see her intent. She only wanted to grow close to him and former band mates in Overkill just to get them drunk off their asses. At least those four bakers thought of their well-being.

And now here they are, their feet back on solid American soil and over two thousand miles away from the girls.

From the girls, anyways.

No sooner have they taken the bus into Manhattan en route to Montana Studios, the place where they might record their next album, Joey gestures out the rain-soaked window at the corner right across the street.

Dan follows his pointing to the large pale brick building right next door to the Haagen-Dazs and the candy shop. He recognizes the smoked glass making up the large windowpane and the hot pink cursive writing facing out to the street. Moreover, he spots the word “Portland” in conjunction with the number “1979”. But even moreover, he realizes that it’s right across the street from their bus stop and ultimately the studio.

Indeed, as they step off the bus and onto the drenched sidewalk, and once the bus pulls away, the five of them congregate there to look on at it.

“You think we should go in?” asks Frank as he tugs the hood on his jacket over his plush dark hair.

“We might as well,” answers Charlie, bowing his head even though the rain is falling down in torrents.

“I have no clue when Jon and Eddie’ll be here, either,” Scott confesses as he, too, pulls his hood over his head. “When we got off the plane, Jon told me he had to run a quick errand over in Flushing. And we know how freaking long the subway tends to be, especially when you’re going long like that.”

“And I’ve got time, too,” adds Joey, as he rubs his hands together up close to his chest. “Not like there’s really anything to do upstate anyways.”

“That’s a long fucking drive, too, Joe,” Dan points out.

“Hell yeah it is! And I don’t really feel like driving at the moment, either.”

“Not after that flight,” Scott feels with him, “let’s get our asses over there and out of this damn rain—“

With their heads bowed, they hurry across the street to the front door. Hunger overcomes Dan right upon arrival at the doorstep.

He can smell the fresh baked pastries on the inside. The thought of Valentina, Adrienne, Sabrina, and Marlene enters his mind. He starts to miss them as they file into the front room.

It’s much more spacious and warm than the original one there in Portland given everything is polished dark wood and the back room appears to have big wide dark metal pipes jutting up from the backs of the ovens.

“God, if there was a way I could harness this smell and make it into a cologne, I’d do it faster than you could say my last name,” Joey remarks in a single breath.

“Baked Belladonna?” Frank jokes.

“Yes!”

“Is that a new form of baked Alaska I haven’t heard of yet?” a woman’s voice says from behind the display case. They turn their attention to find the black haired woman standing up from behind the row of fiery red and bright green donuts to greet them. Her hair is tied back behind her head in a taut bun: Dan takes a closer look to find she also put on a black net to reinforce her hair; she has a bright red apron tied around her body and a pair of red rubber gloves on her hands. She shows the five of them a bold and friendly smile, one that’s plastered with rich deep crimson lipstick and a breeze from the Pacific Northwest.

Joey, who had last spoke, stops right in his tracks; Dan glances over at him in time to see him sucking in his already flat stomach.

“Um... maybe?” he sputters.

“You sure it’s baked Belladonna and not baked Bello?” Frank chuckles.

“Or baked Benante?” Charlie joins in, also with a chuckle.

“So this is the infamous Smell the Magic here in Manhattan?” Scott asks her as part of his greeting and to direct attention from the three of them.

“This is it!” she declares, her dark eyes glimmering. Dan directs his attention to the other donuts next to the quintessential red ones, with their off white body underneath a fine glaze of smooth bright neon Overkill green. He nibbles on his bottom lip at the thought of that.

“I am Sandra,” she continues, still with the smile upon her face, “Sandra Black, the founder and very busy lady behind Smell the Magic. What can I get you boys on this lovely afternoon?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno bout you guys but I would very much like a baked Belladonna for dessert some day 😉😘


	26. Chapter 26

“Haven’t seen these donuts here,” says Scott as he gestures to the bright green glaze before them.

“Those are new,” Sandra replies, folding her arms over the top of the shelf. “They’re green tea with extra dark chocolate, courtesy of my travels to upstate New York.”

Joey nibbles on his bottom lip; Dan, who’s right next to him, flashes him a smirk and nudges him with his elbow.

“I think our man from upstate here,” Scott gestures to Joey, “would like us to have five of those green ones. One for the each of us.”

Sandra shows Joey a thin-lipped smile, and he responds with a nervous smile and a shrug.

“I’m actually from Northern California,” she explains as she opens the door before her in order to bag up the donuts. “A hard-working lady entrepreneur from a little town from Redding.”

“I imagine Northern California being a lot like upstate New York,” he confesses, his voice trembling a bit, “not a lot to do, very rural, hotter than hell in the summertime, freezing in the wintertime, city’s stealing your water ad infinitum...”

Sandra eyes him with a bit of suspicion as she holds a single donut with two fingers there on the inside of the display case. Joey swallows and shrugs his shoulders; Dan stifles a slight giggle with one hand. Frank puts his arm around Joey, and Sandra can’t help but let out a gentle chuckle that sounded akin to champagne glasses clinking together.

“That’ll be fourteen dollars,” she tells them, rolling up the top of the paper sack.

“I got this!” Dan declares, reaching into his jeans pocket for that stack of money Valentina had given him. Sandra raises an eyebrow at the sight of it, and then she reaches out her hand to take the twenty dollar bill from his fingertips. She keeps her eye on that bundle within his fingers as she hands Scott the paper sack and doubles back to fetch the change.

Neither of them have any regard once her back turns away from them. Scott opens the tap and the five of them are met with that combined aroma of baked dark chocolate and a kiss of minty green tea.

“God, I’m starving!” Charlie exclaims, reaching in for one. Frank reaches for one himself and takes a bite.

“Oh my God, so moist!”

“Be careful where you say that, Frankie,” Scott cracks as he, too, takes one for himself. Dan takes a bite, followed by Charlie and then Joey; Dan turns around to face the display case, and Sandra handing him his six dollars in change.

She gives him a thoughtful look as she gives it to him.

“Did Val give you that?” she asks him in a low voice. Dan hesitates there with his mouth full; where the red chili donuts had given him a rush of blood of to the head, these are sending chills down his spine.

“Gimme what?” he asks her with his mouth full.

“That fat stack of money,” she answers, still keeping her voice down low.

“No,” he says upon swallowing.

“You sure?”

“Yes...” What a strange thing to ask him. Of course he’s sure of it, aside from the fact that it was in fact something she gave him.

This is Sandra Black he’s speaking to. There might be something missing from the collective budget, and she would know about that sort of thing. Her gaze burns right into Dan’s memory even as he’s turning back to his band mates and taking another bite of donut.

************************

Meanwhile, back in Seattle, Valentina counts the money in the cash register when she in fact counts a little less than she and Marlene had expected.

Indeed, upon counting it out, she finds they’re out about the same amount as she had given Dan when they had breakfast there. She recalls getting paid that day, but there had to have been enough here in seed money.

Sandra has tabs on this thing, too.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"  
> -Joey in Metal Thrashing Mad

The five of them step out of the bakery in time to feel the cool spring rain on their heads and to behold the sight of Jonny Z having arrived across the street at the recording studio with what looks like bags of food in hand. Charlie licks the remaining bright green glaze his fingers and gestures over there.  
"Looks like he's got dinner for us?" Scott wonders aloud, following his gaze.  
"I know those donuts aren't gonna last us worth shit, anyway," Frank points out, rubbing his hands together.  
Bowing their heads, they pad across the pavement to the sidewalk on the other side. Dan spots a small grease stain about the size of a nickel on one side of the brown paper sack closest to them. But that donut sat well with him, such that the chocolate in the dough had stuck itself onto his ribs: maybe Jon'll understand that he's just not that hungry, even now at dinner time. But Frank and Charlie's faces light up at the sight of it, and Scott opens his arms as if beholding a masterpiece.  
"Yeah, I got us all dinner," Jon says with a chuckle and a push of the front door before him. He leads them into the front of the studio, a vast room with a low cream colored ceiling and a hard blue carpet stretched over an even harder stone floor; on the far side of the room stands Charlie's black print drum kit and a series of speaker cabinets with a camouflage pattern on the front of each one. Dan never exactly found out why Scott always insists on camouflage pattern, other than it gives the sound of the guitars an extra edge.  
As Joey shuts the door behind them, the room is then filled with that smell of French fries and chicken nuggets.  
Dan takes a seat on a stool next to his line of guitars, and in particular right next to the one with the print of Elroy Jetson on the creamy white body. He picks it up and lays it on his lap even though it's not plugged into his amp. He glances up at Frank, who's on the bench next to him with his big black bass guitar, which has two decals of the Not Man near the pick guard; he takes out a piece of gum from his back pocket.  
Dan directs his attention to Charlie and Scott, both of whom are congregated around Jonny for a bite to eat, and then to Joey, who's hanging around the microphone stand in front of the drum kit: Dan can hear him breathing and clearing his throat a bit through the microphone head.  
"What's up, Joe?" Dan asks him as he pays attention to the thoughtful look on his handsome face.  
"I feel like I can sing anything," he declares, "like... now more than ever."  
"You probably can, Joe!" Dan encourages him. "Knowing your voice, yeah, you can."  
"No, I mean... hang on."  
Joey gives his black ringlets a toss back from the side of his neck and sighs through his nose. Dan sets his fingers across the fret board to keep the deep, crunchy sound at bay. The one sound throughout the room is Frank chewing that one piece of gum; otherwise, all is silent as Joey stands before the microphone stand with his hands cupped around the pole, but he doesn't hold onto it. All eyes are on him; his brown eyes fixate on the black grated head of the microphone.  
" _Think of me, think of me fondly_ ," he sings into the microphone, his strong tenor voice filling up every crevice of the room. Scott gapes at him and Dan raises his eyebrows. " _When we've said goodbye. Remember me, once in a while... please promise me you'll try_?"  
" _Joey_ ," Frank breathes out, nearly dropping the bit of gum tucked inside his mouth, but Joey doesn't stop there. He closes his eyes, and bows his head such that tendrils of his curly hair falls into his face, thus obscuring his brow and part of his nose. He holds onto the side of the microphone with one hand and rests his other hand on his flat stomach.  
" _When you find... that once again you long_ ," he continues from somewhere, somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere using the augmentation of the green tea glaze combined with that rich dark chocolate. Dan can see, through his lush black curls, at the sight of his knitting his eyebrows together in utmost melancholy, " _to take your heart back and be free, if you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me_."  
"Joey, I got a tear in my eye just now," says Jonny from the other side of my room. "I've got so much hope for you boys on this next album now."  
"Now?" Joey demands in pithy fashion; he lifts his head to flash him a look of feigned disgust. Scott and Charlie start laughing with their mouths full of French fries. "By the way—those smell so fucking good. Gimme!"  
He steps out from behind the microphone stand to join them in dinner. Frank takes out his piece of gum and sticks it onto the back of his hand, and stands to his feet to join in. Dan decides it's for the best given it might be the one thing they'll eat all night.  
Indeed, the French fries are crisp, and fresh, and still hot, straight out of the fryer. Joey and Charlie both eat up some crispy chicken nuggets, while Scott and Jonny have their share of something that resembles potstickers, and Dan and Frank both have cheeseburgers. The former eats at a slow pace given the donut he had had still holds up.  
Indeed, having dinner at the moment proves to be too much for the five of them; Dan examines the faraway look on Joey's face as he's eating his nuggets at a slow, thoughtful pace. He swallows and turns to Dan with his eyebrows knitted together.  
"God, that donut tithed me over enough for me to sing like that, but now I don't feel like doing shit," he admits in a single breath. "I'm feeling too full."  
"Yeah, and usually with something like those nuggets, you just eat 'em right up!" Frank points out from his left; Dan notices he's barely nibbled away at his burger.  
"Where did that come from anyway?" asks Dan, running the tip of his finger along the edge of his lip.  
"What?" asks Joey. "What I did a little bit ago?"  
"Yeah."  
"I have no idea," he confesses. "I just remember—feeling it. Like the chocolate and the tea were giving me some kind of magic."  
"But your voice is already magic, though," Frank insists.  
"Magic to the magic?"  
"Alright, gentlemen!" Jonny declares from the other side of the room. "You guys know the drill: jam for a little bit, about thirty minutes or so, or whenever you guys finish, and then get back home."  
"Greeeeeeat..." Joey mutters under his breath, and Dan knows he has a long, four hour drive ahead of him, especially with the full feeling burgeoning inside of him at the moment. But even after Jonny leaves the room, thus ensues a time constraint, and the five of them force themselves to finish, even after having eaten those donuts.  
Scott plops down on the bench next to Dan with almost delirious look upon his face.  
"Damn," he grumbles, raising his thick dark eyebrows and rubbing his brow.  
"Yeah," Frank replies, stifling a burp in his throat. He eyes the gum on the back of his hand, and picks it off, and puts it back into his mouth. Dan winces at the sight of it, but he also figures it could've been worse.  
"I'll be amazed if I can get up," Joey confesses, running his fingers through his curls.  
"For real," says Charlie from Frank's left, "feels like I just swallowed an anvil."  
"I'm so thirsty," Dan joins in, licking his lips.  
"All that grease and those damn donuts," Scott points out. "As fantastic as they were, they were kinda heavy."  
"Tellin' ya, Joe, we're gonna get fat if we keep going to Smell the Magic," Dan points out.  
"When—d'you tell me that?" Joey stammers, hiccuping twice.  
"I—I don't know. All I can think of now is—" Dan brings a hand to his mouth to pardon himself. "—what the hell are we gonna do about the stack of money in my pocket?"  
"Don't tell Jon," Scott replies.  
"Yeah, please don't tell Jon," says Charlie, his voice breaking a bit.  
"Sandra asked me about it, though," Dan continues, unfazed by their sentiments, "she asked me where I got it."  
"D'you tell her?" asks Frank.  
"No. I don't need to tell her."  
"What do you mean you don't need?" asks Joey.  
"She asked me if Val gave it to me and I said no, is what I mean. Fuck, I officially ate too much. I can hardly think straight..."  
"Why'd you tell her that?" asks Scott, patting his chest.  
"'Cause I'm an idiot. I also just didn't wanna tell her." Dan rubs his chest: he can't deny the dull tingling sensation within there. The donut and then all those French fries and nuggets had proved to be too much right then. Too much sugar. Too much grease. Not enough of anything decent.  
"Frankie, before we leave here and head on back home," he starts as the tingling morphs into a warm feeling, "you got any antacids in your pocket there?"  
"Pfff, I wish," Frank confesses with a shrug. "Gonna haveta get some milk or somethin' when you head back over to Rockland, Danny."  
"Why would Sandra ask you that, though?" asks Scott.  
"Who knows," Dan admits, keeping his hand to his chest. "She also asked me if I was sure, too. Of course I'm sure."  
"She didn't ask us if we were rock stars, either," Charlie follows along, but then his voice trails off.  
"Makes me wonder..." Dan confesses, "but at the same time, I can't really focus on anything."  
"You guys, I've gotta fuckin' four hour drive ahead of me," Joey moans, bowing his head, "let's just do something already and bounce!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics to "Think of Me", from the Phantom of the Opera (yeah, yeah, it came out in late 1986 and the US never heard it until 1987, but just imagine Joey singing that, though)  
> Frankie taking a page out of Violet Beauregarde's book there, too!


	28. Chapter 28

"Hey, Joe, wait up!" Dan calls out to him there at the curb. Joey rubs his eyes and pushes a few curled black locks back from his face, but it's rather futile given then wind is picking up.  
"What's up, Danny?" he calls out.  
"You've got that long fucking-ass drive ahead of you," Dan replies, squinting and shielding his eyes with his hand. "After all that we ate a li'l bit ago, I don't really want you to drive back home by yourself. I'll drive ya."  
"But what about you, though?" he asks, tugging on the lapels of his jacket to protect his neck from the raw cold blowing all around them.  
"Don't worry 'bout me. I'll drive ya and take ya back to your place, and then—you know, I've got that big fucking stack of money in my pocket right now. I'll take a bus back from upstate if I have to."  
Joey cracks him a crooked little smile, which in turn shows off the small gap in his teeth.  
"Aw, thank you, Danny," he tells him as he rounds the back end of his car to the passenger side; Joey opens the door and sets his travel bag on the back seat, and then he slips into the front seat. Dan follows his suit with his things, and then takes his spot behind the wheel.  
Once their doors are closed, both guys run their fingers through their long luxurious hair.  
"God damn," Dan gasps with a shake of his head: that heavy feeling inside of his stomach proves to keep him warm enough for the time being.  
"Yeah," Joey fetches up a sigh and brushes a stray curly lock away from the side of his handsome face. "Remember when I first joined and I came all the way down from—freakin'—what was it, Plattsburgh?"  
"Oh, God, how could I forget. It was like you walked in and the lake effect followed you."  
"Leopard print crop top and everything."  
"Crop top, jeans that were painted on, and fuckin' everything! Okay, where're your keys..."  
Within time, Joey and Dan ride out of Manhattan with the waning orange sunlight to their left: the sun disappears behind a wall of dark gray clouds off in the distance. It's springtime and yet winter still lingers around with a firm grip here in New York. Joey's the first to take off his sunglasses while Dan keeps his on, even with the impending darkness around them.  
"I just realized we never got alone together," Dan starts up as Joey leans the seat back and puts his hands underneath his head.  
"Yeah, me, too. We've been in the same band for a while now and yet we only know of each other. At least that's on my end."  
"What's something about Joey Belladonna that I don't know yet?" asks Dan, leaning back in his seat with one hand resting upon the steering wheel. They've cleared the City at this point and are now on their way to Binghampton, and eventually Syracuse.  
"My aunt used to call me sassy," he says. "Wouldn't surprise me if she still does, either."  
"Sassy?"  
"Yeah. For example..." Joey clears his throat. Dan figures on this next stop he'll buy a couple of bottles of milk. "—you know those new machines we see in commercials as of late? Those answering machines you get for your phone?"  
"Oh, yeah. What you wanna do with one of those?"  
"Get it to just record my voice."  
"Why not just get a tape recorder?" asks Dan.  
"Because the other thing lets other people hear it every time they call me," Joey explains. "So my point is if I ever do, I'm starting it with 'them bitches asking for Joseph Bellardini, tell 'em I'm either passed out or screeching my lungs out in the studio.'"  
Dan bursts out laughing, so loud that his voice fills up the whole front of the car. Joey sets one hand on his flat stomach and stares up at the ceiling with a satisfied look on his face.  
"It's like, you ever get a girl lookin' at your crotch?" he wonders aloud.  
"All the time!" Dan declares, taking off his sunglasses to reveal his bright blue eyes. "When I was playin' with Overkill, I had girls lookin' at my crotch all the time. Me and Bob, Bobby Blitz both."  
"Yeah, but you've got a guitar in front of you, though," Joey points out. "I've just got that li'l portable microphone stand that I could probably use for a walkin' stick at some point."  
He shakes his head.  
"I made the mistake of telling Val being up onstage is like being naked," he confesses.  
"How's that a mistake?" asks Dan, leaning back in the seat. "It kinda is! We're exposed up there on stage in front of a bunch of people."  
"Yeah, for you maybe. Have you _seen_ the way she looks at the both of us?"  
"Well, yeah." Dan snickers a little bit. "Have you seen the way Adrienne looks at you?"  
Joey puts his hands across his eyes to hide the blooming blush in his face.  
"God... I like her, Danny," he insists. "I'm tellin' ya. I don't care if you're tired of hearing it, too, I mean it. I fucking mean it forever. In fact... you wanna know what?"  
"What?"  
Joey lowers his hands from his face to look at him, his brown eyes large with both fear and arousal.  
"When I see her again, I'm ampin' up my game."  
Dan gapes at him. "You're gonna steal her!"  
"Nah, just do my thing but with her," he clarifies. "Be—you know." He shifts his weight there in the seat to bring attention to this hips and thighs. "The sexy front man for her. 'Cause you know that the front men get the action."  
"Oh, yeah, of course."  
"But I'm not gonna fuckin' steal her. No way. She's a big girl. But I'm just gonna see if _she_ can handle the fact that being up onstage is like being naked. Val took it well, so I wanna give it a try on her."  
Dan raises his eyebrows at that. He realizes what Joey's telling him. It's a little backwards, but he gets it, even as they're pulling up to a service station on the outskirts of Monticello. Even through the soft white light from the wrought iron lamps on the edges of the street, he can make out the sight of a woman with a short bob of rust colored hair near the pump closest to the front door. He has an odd feeling within him as they pull up to the pump next over.  
He pulls on the parking lever before climbing out into the bitter New York cold. He still feels full, but it's wearing off at this point. He shivers and closes his coat as he passes the woman there.  
"Dan?" He recognizes her voice. He turns around to see her closing the door of the fuel tank. She has on a heavy winter coat plus a rich black scarf with silvery glimmers embedded within the fabric.  
"Marlene!" Dan declares. "What're you doin' out here?"  
"I came out here to see how things are going upstate," she replies, nonplussed even with the escalating, freezing winds from Lake Ontario and the Canadian Shield. "And, you know, my husband and my stepson are up in Rochester, too. May I ask the same of you?"  
"Takin' Joey home," he answers, moving in closer to her. "Goin' all the way up to Oswego. It's four hours and he's... not feeling up to it."  
"Did you guys eat?"  
"Ohhhhh, yes. That's why he's not feelin' up to it. Why? D'you wanna do somethin'?"  
"Well, I was gonna ask if you boys didn't eat yet, maybe I can get you to meet my husband and his son when we get there."  
"We can still probably meet 'em," he points out, "we just—y'know—won't have anything to eat."  
"When we get closer, I'm gonna get you guys to follow me, though," she suggests, pulling the lapels of her coat collar and her scarf closer to her neck and the bottom of her face.  
"Sounds good by me," he concludes, tucking his hands into his coat pockets. "Just gotta get some fuel, a couple of drinks, and then I'll tell him about it."  
"Oh, and Dan?"  
He hesitates as he feels the first droplets of rain on the crown of his head.  
"Val says 'hi'," she says, showing him a thin-lipped smile.  
"Oh?"  
"Yeah. She also told me she seals it with a kiss from the high desert."  
The last thing on Dan's mind before he heads into the mini-mart is that chili pepper powder on those red glazed donuts.


	29. Chapter 29

Dan has his hands firmly pressed on the rim of the steering wheel as he and Joey lead Marlene in the car behind them all the way through the dense dark forest between Binghampton and Syracuse. Sometimes he forgets how eerie it is out here once the sun sets: the darkness around them is accentuated by the fact the rain clouds have obscured the stars in the sky. The lake effect will beckon forth once they approach closer to the ring of freeways surrounding Syracuse.

Joey shifts his weight in the seat next to Dan, who can hear him breathing a bit harder than normal. He flashes a glimpse over him to behold sight of the apprehensive expression on his face.

“You alright?” asks Dan.

“Yeah...” Joey assures him, “the darkness out here scares me sometimes. Yeah, it scares me even.”

He clears his throat and hunches his shoulders a bit as the rain picks up again, pounding on the windshield before them in big, dime-sized droplets. A sign on the side of the road reads ten miles to Syracuse and seventy out to Oswego as Dan flicks on the windshield wipers.

“When I was little, I used to pretend there were like ghosts and shit out in the wilderness here,” Joey recalls, “and then when I started playing hockey, I would pretend to be a ghost myself.”

“Would you wear like a jersey or somethin over your head?” asks Dan, gesturing over the crown of his head with one hand.

“Oh yeah, I’d take my jersey—this little blue and white shirt that my uncle got me—and put it right over the top of my head so it’d hide my hair. I also wore like bedsheet around my shoulders, so I thought I would look like a ghost. And then when I started drumming and playing in bands out here, I would think spirits and shit would come out and get us as we’re driving down the road.”

“Quite the imagination you have, Joe,” Dan remarks as Marlene’s headlights veer out from behind them and into his side view mirror.

“I never quite grew up, to be honest,” Joey admits with a shrug of the shoulders, even though Dan can’t see him in the darkness. “Here I am, looking at my mid-twenties and the rest of my life, and I still feel like a kid most of the time.”

“Me, too, to be honest,” Dan says as Marlene overtakes them at a swift clip. He nibbles on his bottom lip at the sight of her pulling ahead of them.

“Man, she’s in a hurry,” Joey points out.

“I know! She told me she’ll be leading us back to her house in Rochester, but jeez, Marlene, wait up for us.”

Within time, the golden and blue lights making up the Syracuse skyline emerge from behind the dense veil of heavy clouds, and Dan follows the curvature of the highway as it forms into freeway.

“Just realized the freeways here form a donut,” Joey remarks. Dan glances over at him and the sight of the mischievous smirk crossing his face with the glow of the city lights.

“It’s a donut,” Joey chuckles, bringing a hand to his mouth.

“It’s a donut,” Dan echoes, laughing with him.

“It’s a fucking donut!” Joey laughs out loud right then. Dan feels his face growing warm from the giddy sensation and from the blast of warm air from the heater vent. He gives his hair a toss back from the side of his neck with one hand; the pavement fills with bumps and holes every which where. Dan holds his hands in place to steady the car. Joey grips onto the bar on the ceiling over his head.

“It’s a donut, alright,” Dan declares, keeping the car in line with the road ahead of them. “A donut covered in pepper flakes!”

“HA!” Joey clutches onto the center console with his free hand.

The road steadies out as they round the western side of town: Marlene’s car keeps ahead of them as the signs for the lake and Oswego enter their view. She takes the next one taking them out around Lake Onondaga, and Dan follows her away from Syracuse and into the darkness.

“So out of the way,” he mutters.

“I’ve done this drive several times,” Joey assures him, “in the daytime of course, but I’ve done it heading on over to Camillus and, of course, Rochester. Yeah, welcome to upstate New York, ohhhhh Danny boy!” He sings out on that last part, which in turn coaxes another chuckle from Dan.

It’s even more foreboding out here given the proximity to the lakeshore, but Dan knows it’s only another hour. Another hour of driving through the darkness: at least they’re sparing an hour from riding along the edge of the waters. Perhaps, he figures, she lives somewhere outside here, somewhere in the dark wilderness here.

Indeed, just prior to the outskirts Rochester, Marlene leads them all the way past the cutoff which would take them across the Erie Canal and into downtown. Dan still has his hand resting upon the rim of the steering wheel as she takes them down the highway towards a rather remote pocket of a commune, like a neighborhood that’s its own thing compared to Rochester.

He peers over at Joey, who folded his arms over his chest as though he’s feeling cold: in the faint back glow from the headlights, he can make out a pensive look on his face.

“Recognize this part?” asks Dan.

“Yeah... this is where the rich people live,” Joey replies, still pensive. “The white people, I should say. I remember coming over here to pick up a friend of mine when I played in Megaforce, and so many passerby gave me a dirty look, and I know it was from my dark skin and my black hair.”

“Actin’ like they’ve never seen an Indian man before,” Dan adds as he turns left to keep up with following her.

“Right!”

Within time, they arrive at Marlene’s house, a two story white stucco house with a turret looming in the back. The hedges out in the front yard are trimmed to utmost perfection, all the way down to the centimeter of an inch. The grass had been fresh cut, even with the impending last gasp of winter surrounding them. Marlene parks in the dark garage to their left; her red taillights fade out to blackness once she’s in there. The rain patters hard on the roof as Dan halts right next to the curb and tugs on the parking lever. Joey pulls the lapels of his coat collar up to his face even though it won’t do much to protect his head from the rain.

“Let’s do it,” Dan encourages him as he stuffs the keys into his coat pocket.

“Make it quick!” Joey declares as he opens the door.

Indeed, the two of them dodge out of the front of the car and onto the drenched sidewalk. Joey’s black hair matts to his head within a few seconds. Dan covers his head with the backs of his hands. Marlene ducks out from the garage and bursts out laughing at the sight of them as they reach the front step.

“Right this way, gentlemen,” she beckons them through the front door.

They enter the front foyer, this spacious warm lit room with a steep-looking stairwell heading up to the second floor. Joey, whose black ringlets drip wet with rain water, pushes some tendrils back from his neck and shoulders in time to see the young, beautiful blond man entering the room from the left. His hair hangs down to his shoulders and his dark eyebrows stand out against his pallid complexion.

“Dad, Marlene’s home!” he calls down the hallway next to the staircase. He turns his attention to Joey and Dan, and frowns at them.

“Hello,” he says in a flat tone of voice.

“Beau, this is Joey and Dan,” Marlene introduces them. “They’re friends of myself, Val, and Adrienne.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks Joey in particular, folding his arms across his chest. Joey swallows at the sight of the inquiring leer upon his diamond shaped face. Beau is a bit shorter than him, but he’s rather foreboding given the sneer and the disdain on his face.

“I just really like her baking,” Joey says with a coy shrug of the shoulders.

“I do, too,” Dan joins in to ease the intimidation. Beau flips his hair back with a flick of his head which in turn shows off his neck to the both of them. Dan shifts his weight right there as Marlene hangs up her coat on the hook behind them.

“Are you sure you guys don’t wanna stay for dinner?” she offers them. “All that driving ought to have worked up an appetite.”

“It’s a little bit late, though, don’t you think, Marlene?” Beau sneers, never taking his eyes off of Joey.

“Well...” Dan starts, “we did eat kinda early, to be honest.”

“What’re you doin’?” Joey demands in a hushed voice.

“I’ll tell ya later,” Dan whispers.

“Surely, you can’t be that hungry,” Beau scoffs.

“Hey, guy, when you travel as much as we do, time can wait when you’re hungry,” Joey quips.

“Come on, Beau,” Marlene insists, guiding him out of their and into the kitchen. The two of them continue to drip there on the carpet in momentary silence, that is until Dan speaks again.

“Anyways, the reason why I said that is so I can have a word with Marlene about money, and—“ He notices Joey isn’t paying attention to him.

“Joey?”

“I’m in trouble,” he says aloud.

“What do you mean?” asks Dan.

“You know.” He turns around to face him head on and with a grave look upon his face. “The whole thing about me being Mr. Sexy Frontman...”

“Hey, I tried to warn ya, Joey,” Dan points out. “At least you’re not overthinking it to fucking death like with me and Val. Now, since we’re here, how ‘bout we unwind for a bit and have somethin’ to eat.”


	30. Chapter 30

Even with the two of them keeping to themselves, and even making a concerted effort to help out in any way they can, Dan and Joey still manage to feel at unease around Beau in particular. The way he sits there at the bar along the center island with his head bowed and a lock of his golden blond hair tucked behind his ear, and his arms folded over the top like he’s expecting something. He looks up at Joey in particular as if he’s about to do something destructive to the house.

Even as Joey offered to help Marlene set the table, Dan caught him flash a sneer of sights, even out from the corner of his eye. He figures it could be from the fact they’re both strange men, and they had come over on such short notice, but for Beau to act like Joey is the worst person in the world seems a bit too much. At one point, Dan had strode past him to use the bathroom and he never flinched a muscle. Indeed when he returned, he found Joey already seated on the wooden bench underneath the table in the narrow sliver of a dining room.

“What’s up?” Dan had asked him in a near whisper.

“You really wanna know?” Joey asked in a hushed voice.

“Yes.” Dan lowered his voice to a whisper as well.

“I got uncomfortable. When you left the room, Beau glared at me like I just insulted him. I tried to be nice to him but he’s so—so—“

“Terse?”

“Yes!”

“Did you do your thing?”

“Hell no. There’s no way I can, Danny. Maybe in front of Adrienne herself, but not this guy. No way.”

It was that point Dan figured things would not be easy at dinner there.

Indeed, the atmosphere there in that narrow room around Joey and Dan is rather tense as they had taken their seats across from Beau and Marlene there at the dinner table. Joey slouches down in his seat a bit next to Dan as if trying to dodge sight of Beau’s glare at him. Dan keeps his eye fixated on the dish before him.

The food before them meanwhile—homemade macaroni and cheese embedded with sliced hot dogs courtesy of Marlene’s husband Philip—proved to be quite warming and lovely. Dan scoops up some of the pasta with a flick of his wrist and eats at a slow pace. Joey keeps his head bowed as he, too, eats from his plate at a thoughtful pace to savor the three melted cheeses and the small hot dog medallions within.

“This is delicious,” Dan remarks to Philip as he takes a seat there at the head of the table to his right. He’s a handsome, older man with a slick combover of salt and pepper hair and long spidery fingers that gives Dan an odd feeling within him.

“Yeah, sure beats the hell out of that boxed stuff,” Joey adds as he takes another bite.

“Don’t curse,” Beau snaps at him.

“Oh, Beau, be nice,” Philip assures him. “He’s just being honest.” He then turns his attention to the two of them there at his right. “So Marlene says you fellas are both in a group?”

“Yeah, I’m the lead guitarist, he’s the singer,” Dan answers in one fell swoop.

“Do you boys—make any money at all?”

“We try,” he continues with a shrug of his shoulders. “Some days it gets hard, especially with this tour having just ended and now we’re gonna be heading into studio for a new album.”

“Hard-working bunch of guys,” Philip remarks.

“We try our best,” Joey says with a coy smile. Beau raises his hands to his mouth to cover a sneeze, but Joey can hear the word “bullshit” come out of that. He stares on at Beau with a thoughtful look on his handsome face. Dan nibbles on his bottom lip. Even with Marlene and Philip’s hospitality, he knows they’re not welcome there. He can only imagine how Joey feels at the moment with his interest in Adrienne and whatnot.

Within time, they finish up dinner; even with their stomachs chock full of food at this point, Dan and Joey both assist Marlene in clearing the table and bringing the dishes to the heavy granite kitchen counter. Joey hesitates right there behind Marlene as she’s organizing the dishes together.

Dan notices the look of apprehension on his face; he turns to find Beau walking onward to the living room with a bit of a sneer on his face. He can’t understand why he seems to be treating Joey like a dirty dog when he hadn’t said anything about his interest in Adrienne.

Marlene, meanwhile, turns to Joey with a friendly genuine smile on her face. Little do either of the two of them know, she has a trick up her sleeve courtesy of Valentina, Adrienne, and Sabrina. But there is nothing about Beau that sits with Dan very well.

They haven’t done anything to cross him like that, but the mood of everything is starting to irritate Dan a bit. There is no way they can stay there another minute, much less another hour for dessert as Marlene offers them large blocks of decadent chocolate ice cream, complete with whipped cream and cherries on top.

“Oh, no, as much as I would like some, and as much as Joey would like some,” Dan admits as he’s sliding on his coat, “he and I really have to get going.”

“Yeah, especially with this rain,” Joey adds, buttoning up his coat. “Danny and I could fall asleep here if we’re not careful.”

“Are you sure?” she asks them with large eyes and her hands clasped at her middle.

“Positive,” Dan concludes, opening the door and thus revealing the torrential downpour on the front step. It’s only a matter of time before the storm drain out by the sidewalk begins to flood to an exorbitant degree.

“Thank you, though,” Joey adds as he steps outside first with his head bowed. Dan follows him out so they can leave the rain quicker.

Plan thwarted, much to Marlene’s chagrin. The girls aren’t going to like this.

Meanwhile, the two men run out to the car even with their bellies full and feeling warm. Dan scrambles to unlock the doors; but he and Joey manage to duck inside, and shake some of the residual rain water from their hair.

“There’s no way I can eat anymore,” Dan confesses as he leans back in the driver’s seat and rests his hands on his stomach.

“God, me, neither,” Joey confesses. “And not with Beau there, either.” He ends that last bit with a slight shudder.

“Oh, come on, Joe,” Dan insists. “An hour ago, you were Mr. Tough Guy. Surely, you can’t be too intimidated by him.”

“I can’t take the dirty looks, Danny,” he declares. “Have you seen the way he looks at me? It’s like he wants to slit my throat even though I haven’t said a fucking thing.”

Dan thinks back to when he found him there already in the dining room. Joey’s not exaggerating.

“You are,” he concludes. He picks up the keys to start up the car again. Even through the sheets of rain on the windows, Dan catches the sight of Marlene peering out at them from the living room window.

“How long is it from here to your place?”

“About an hour,” Joey replies as he pulls the hood over the crown of ringlets atop his head. “That is, if our stomachs can handle it. The quickest way is to head up through Rochester and then follow the road along the lake. It’s either that or double back to Syracuse and deal with the freeways there.”

“Okay. I think I have it in me.”


	31. Chapter 31

“I want Joey to choke me with his thighs,” Valentina begs into the phone receiver.

“I know, Val, honey, but—” Marlene starts, trying to keep her voice down to avoid being overheard by Philip and Beau, both of whom are in the next room.

“But what? Mar, I know they left early and the plan was thwarted and everything but—”

“Your desire is starting to bubble and make itself known with you.”

“More than that,” she admits with an exasperated sigh.

“What about Adrienne? Did you talk to her?”

“I did, yeah. She wants to do terrible things to each of them. She told me she likes that Joey seems to have a thing for her, probably moreso than Beau. How's he doin', by the way?”

“Who? Beau?”

“Yeah.”

Marlene turns her head and leans back for a peek out the doorway down the hall. “He does not like Joey at all. I can see it in his eyes and I can feel it. You should've seen the way Joey behaves around him, Val. He's like a total nervous wreck.”

“Oh, God, just imagine Adrienne getting in between them,” says Valentina with a hushed tone of voice. “Who would win in a fight over her?”

“I've got my money on Beau, to be honest. Joey's so damn skinny, it'd be snapping a twig in half.”

“By the way, are we still on par with—what we want to do with the five of them?”

“Well, of course. They're five poor men from New York who are skin and bones and having to scrounge. Waving any morsel of food in their faces is like throwing a steak into a shark pit. Add money to the mix and you've got them in the palm of your hands, baby doll.”

“I asked Sabrina if she wanted to take on Charlie and she told me it'd be trying to take down a giant,” Valentina confesses.

“Hey, if David can take down Goliath,” Marlene points out, twirling her finger around the phone cord, “I'm sure she can bend him and make him do whatever she wants. I've seen you ladies take on and seduce boys to total oblivion.”

“Right. But there have also been boys who got away. Remember Randy?”

“Oh, could I forget. We had him in the palm of our hands and then—fucking Ozzy had to seek him out and ask him what the hell was going on with him. Sandra lost a lot of money then, and I don't want that to happen again.”

“Yeah, I really don't want to have to tell her—again—” Valentina grumbles, her voice breaking. “I came up here for a better life and I don't want that to happen again. I don't want to leave the Northwest because of something we did.”

“I know you don't,” Marlene assures her. “I hope that Danny can see that in you.”

“I know he does, Mar,” Valentina insists. “He helped me out, too. He returned the favor…” Her voice trails off.

“Do you have the other boy? What's his name, Frank?”

“Frank, yeah! Yeah—I'm not sure, to be honest, Mar. Sabrina says he's probably the oddball of the bunch because he took my offer in the bathroom so easily.”

“How's that odd?”

“Because that's a sign that he might be onto us. But it's hard to tell—and Sabrina confessed that she can't tell, either.”

“You know who's going to be a real tough nut to crack, though?” asks Marlene, glancing over her shoulder again.

“Who's that?”

“Scott. He's so stoic. Hard as a rock.”

“Surely there's a notch there.”

“Oh, yeah, I know there is. Every stone has a little give to it. They went through hell and fire, after all.”

“Hell and fire, I like that!”

“I thought you would! So going back to the whole thing about us having done it before. At least, even with the one that got away, we learned our mistakes from then. At least, I hope we have.”

“I sure have,” Valentina reassures her. “I'm not going through that bullshit again.”

“They seem easier if you think about it,” Marlene points out.

“How so?”

“They don't have as much money on them, whereas Randy and all them were already making some serious bank. Monolithic New Yorkers or not, they are much more vulnerable, Val.”

“Much thinner, too. Well, at least, Joey is.”

“I dunno, Dan looks pretty—on the meager side if I might say so myself. How's the next batch of donuts coming, by the way?”

“Coming along—they should be ready come the morning, which means the shops in Manhattan and there in Rochester will be stocked up soon. Also, Sabrina tells me Joey's gonna be kind of a difficult one, too, not just—you know, from the fact he's got a thing for Adrienne and whatnot.”

“Why's that?” Marlene knits her eyebrows together.

“He's an upstate boy. The only one of them who's from upstate.”

“And?” She shakes her head.

“Upstate is a totally different world from the City. City boys know their way around the gutter and who's a walker and a good one.”

“So? How's that harder?”

“Upstate has to deal with the whole shtick of the City being—the City,” Valentina explains in a flat tone of voice. “They have to put up with the most bullshit, and Joey's—some kind of Native American, I know that much. At least, that's from my own observation.”

“So that checks off two demographics right there. Upstate having to deal with everything and the Natives having to be the butt of everything.”

“I can see it in those brown eyes, too. He's hard, Mar. As solid as the earth.”

“He's got quite the muscles on him, too,” adds Marlene. “He's not even close to being drummer stout like Charlie, but I can sense it, though. You know?”

“Yeah. And then there's Danny—you know I've always had a thing for short boys, Mar.”

“I know you do. That's why you chose him.” Marlene winks even though Valentina can't see her.

“Those ocean blue eyes… so trusting. So vulnerable.”

“Hard New Yorkers—and yet, so easy to break down and dote into their desires. We've got this, baby girl. Keep telling yourself that. We've got this. We've got this. The four of us and the five of them. It'll be like a meshing of sorts.”

“That's exactly how Adrienne views it, ha! Anyways, I've gotta go. Another long day tomorrow.”

“Don't stay up too late,” Marlene advises her.

“By the way, and I know Dan and Joey got away but what'd you feed them tonight?”

“Mac and cheese. They ate pretty generously, too. I tried to offer them dessert but they refused.”

“It's only the beginning, Mar. They'll want it soon enough. Anyways—good night from Portland.”

“And good night from Upstate New York.”


	32. Chapter 32

Dan wakes up on the couch in a strange apartment, disoriented and feeling slightly dizzy for the time being. He then recalls what had happened the night before. He hears a soft shuffling in the next room and sits upright with one arm hooked over the top of the couch: he glances into the next room to find Joey opening a cupboard over the sink and reaching inside for something.

“Oh, fuck—I forgot I spent the night here,” Dan remarks. Joey turns his head to see him.

“Oh, hey! You're up!”

Dan groans and rubs his eyes. He lets go of the couch, and stands to his feet, and ambles into the next room.

“Would you like for me to drive you back to the City?” Joey offers him as he pours a cup of coffee.

“Sure,” he figures, seeing as he drove Joey's car and there's no other way to get there other than by train or by bus, “and thank you, too.”

“Also, I'm gonna be seeing Whitesnake in a few days,” Joey adds. “I dunno if you're a fan or not, but you're more than welcome to come with me.”

“Just Whitesnake?” asks Dan.  
“Whitesnake and—I think Guns 'N Roses'll be with 'em, too.”

“Cool! Think I should ask Frankie if he wants to come too?”

“I don't see why not,” Joey replies with a shrug of his narrow shoulders.

“I like a little cream, by the way.”

“I don't have any cream. Damn it.”

***********************************************

Within time, the two of them have made the four hour drive back to the City but once Joey had dropped him off at his place, Dan waits for a moment before he takes the next subway down to Manhattan. He knows Scott, Charlie, and Frankie aren't across the street there at the studio, but he doesn't mind. He's there for one reason and one reason only.

He enters the front door of the original Smell the Magic, where even though he had been expecting to find Sandra working diligently away behind the counter, he spots Sabrina wiping down the top of the display case with a white towel. Her face lights up when she recognizes him.

“Hey—Danny is it?”

“Yeah! Hey, Sabrina—I wasn't really—”

“Expecting to see me here?” She pauses in mid swipe and tilts her head towards him.

“Not really.” Dan ambles over to the counter to look at her right in the face and also to step out of the way of oncoming traffic.

“I wanna ask you a question,” he begins.

“Go ahead,” she encourages him.

“Do you mind keeping a secret at all?”

“Of course. Care for a Napoleon? It's on me.”

“Yeah, sure, why not.”

She strips off her gloves and turns behind her for a decadent, crispy golden Napoleon with light and fluffy crème filling on the inside off of one of the shelves behind her. Dan takes it with two fingers and, cupping his hand underneath it to catch the crumbs, brings it to his mouth.

“So what's your secret?” Sabrina asks him, reaching down for a fresh pair of gloves before resuming the cleaning.

“Well— ” he starts, taking a bite. “Oh, fuck, this is tasty.”

Sabrina stops again, this time to watch him eat it. Dan hadn't eaten since he left Oswego, and Joey didn't have much to eat himself other than toast and some butter, but they were both positive that they could hold off until lunch time. Just eating one bite sent his appetite into a frenzy, but something stops him right in his tracks. Maybe it's the look on her face, or maybe it's something else. He can't quite put his finger on it. But Dan isn't feeling comfortable with her watching him like this and he isn't comfortable with how hungry this indulgent pastry makes him all of a sudden.

“I can't,” he resists, setting down the Napoleon.

“Why not?”

“I kinda wanna eat something with a bit more—I dunno.” He shrugs his slender shoulders. “I wanna say substance?”

“Well, this has substance,” Sabrina insists, gesturing to the pastry in front of him. “What's your secret?”

“Don't change the subject,” he tells her off.

“I didn't.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“No… you asked me if I could keep a secret and I said yes. That's not changing the subject.”

Dan nibbles on his bottom lip. He wants to tell her about his burgeoning feelings about Valentina, but it's the twinkle in her dark eyes. It's the look on her lovely dark face. She and Marlene are close, and they're close with Valentina and Adrienne.

Girls are like that.

“So, what's your secret?” she asks him again, this time lowering her voice to a near whisper.

“Beau doesn't like Joey,” he blurts out.

“What? You mean—Beau Silverstein. Marlene's stepson?”

“Yeah. That's shitty of me to do that, but—”

“How do you know?” she asks, blunt.

“He—He told me.”

“Who, Joey or Beau?”

“Joey.”

Sabrina nibbles on her bottom lip and then purses her lips together. She peels off her left glove and picks up the Napoleon.

She crams it right into his mouth.

Dan can't breathe. But the only way to make himself breathe again is if he eats this.

“Don't fight it, Danny,” she insists. “Don't you _dare_ fight it. Just eat it. Just—eat it.”

“I am eating it,” he says once he has it back in his hands. “I can't stop, either.”

He shovels the Napoleon into his mouth as if he's starving to death.

“Good,” Sabrina whispers into his face. “Good. That's good. Good boy. Eat every crumb. You're hungry. I feel it in you.”

“Fuck, this is overkill—” he says in between bites of crunchy creamy Napoleon.

“That's good,” she whispers in a tone so soft she may as well be breathing it. “That's so good. I should lure your old band mates as well as the four boys you're hangin' with, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, they could use some of this tasty shit, too. Mmm, yeah—”


	33. Chapter 33

Joey hears a knock on his front door. He flings it open to find Marlene standing there on the door step, wrapped in a raincoat and cradling a box of donuts atop one arm.

“What's up, Marlene?” he asks her as part of his greeting. Her lips curl up into a mischievous Cheshire cat type smile.

“Care for a donut?” she offers, gesturing to the clear top of the box.

“I was just gonna go out to get something eat, but thank you, though.”

She lifts the lid of the box to show him the dozen bright green and bright red donuts before him. There is one plain chocolate donut in the far corner, one with a bit of a sugar glaze on top; he picks that one. And Marlene nibbles on her bottom lip.

“Is this one for you or someone else?” he asks her.

“No, no—you can have that one,” she replies, with a terse tone to her voice. “I was kind of hoping you'd take one of the red or green ones—” Joey picks the red donut in the right corner closest to him. He's already feeling warm on the inside even upon the sight of the pepper flakes. Marlene closes the lid and holds onto the box from the bottom.

Joey nibbles on his bottom lip and peers up at her, right in the eye.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the City, Dan can't hardly control himself. His muscles twitch and his body shakes. He's like a little creature, a famished beast: it helps that his long smooth hair streaks behind him like the fluffy mane on an animal. He rubs his fingertips on his temples.

Something is coming over him. Something deep rooted and primeval.

 _I need something to eat_ , he thought to himself. _I need something to eat_!

But he had eaten up that Napoleon as though it was going out of style.

Sabrina smiles to herself as she folds her arms over the top of the counter. She can make out the primal gleam in his eye. He's crazy: she can sense it.

“So where do your old band mates live?” she asks him in a low voice.

“Overkill?” he sputters.

“Yeah.”

“Nearby New Jersey—God, my stomach's rumbling right now…” Dan sets both hands on his stomach. His fingers and the palms of his hands glisten with sweat.

“I know it is,” she says in a near whisper. “It's a special recipe—something that should bring all the love to your body.”

* * *

Joey brings the chocolate donut to his dark lips. Her stare makes him squirm and shift his weight there in the middle of the floor. The chocolate was fresh; the sugar lingered around like an underscoring of sorts. Nothing fancy: just a nice sweet donut.

Marlene keeps her gaze fixated on him.

He swallows down the bite.

He turns to the spicy red one in his left hand.

Something in the back of his mind is telling him otherwise. But it's tempting him. It's tempting him so much. It's seducing him.

“Well?” she asks him in a low voice.

“Well what?” Joey retorts.

“You gonna have a bite?”

He runs his tongue along his bottom lip. Something tugs at the pit of his stomach. But he brings it up to his dark lips in preparation to take a bite. The aroma of the chocolate and the spices beckons him closer.

* * *

“I'm starving!” Dan declares. “Can I eat something in here?”

“What would you like, baby?” asks Sabrina as she rounds the side of the display case.

“Another Napoleon! Please! Please, please, please, _please_ —Sabrina, I need it! I need it so bad!”

She gives her nappy hair a slight toss back with a flick of her head. Dan breathes hard as though he had run a mile. It's as though it's overcoming him.

* * *

_Do I genuinely have brain damage?_ Joey asks himself as he takes a bite of the chocolate and spicy donut. He has a mouthful of bite once he reaches to his left to shut the door. The last thing he sees is Marlene's sadistic smile.

Once the door is closed, Joey turns to the trash can in the kitchen. He opens the lid and spits out the bite, and drops the red donut in there.

He turns to the chocolate donut in his right hand and eats that one.

* * *

Sabrina makes her way to the back room to fetch another Napoleon. Dan is about to lose it as she sashays around the room to find a fresh Napoleon. He breathes even harder as he sinks down to the floor.

His stomach is in utter agony. He leans his back up against the front side of the display case. It's like someone is stabbing him right in the belly. Moreover, it's strengthening and worsening with every passing second. Sabrina can't come back into the room any faster!

* * *

Joey runs his tongue on the tip of his index finger to pick up that residual chocolate.

It's decadent and indulgent. A little too decadent and indulgent.

He takes a seat there on the couch and leans back against the cushion. He takes a look down at his slender, almost delicate tummy and his narrow toned thighs.

That chocolate donut was tasty. Something that could have used a glass of milk… or that spicy one that he spat out and threw away.

He turns his head to the back of the couch; he lifts himself up to peer over the top. He eyes the trash can there.

Joey licks his lips again.

_That was a terrible idea?_

_Do I genuinely have brain damage_?

He shakes his curly head. That donut might be good, but something like an omelette might be better.

But then again, those spicy donuts filled the five of them up like a full meal.

Joey peers over his shoulder and the top of the couch again.

It's a terrible idea. It really is a terrible idea.

But he's finding himself walking over to the trash can.

He opens it and picks it out of there. Still pristine and intact as though he had just taken it out of the box again. He takes a whiff of it from where he had initially taken a bite.

And he nibbles on it.

* * *

Meanwhile, Sabrina hands Dan a fresh Napoleon. The pastry is crispy and fresh, straight out of the oven: the chocolate and the cream are both lovely and creamy.

* * *

Joey goes from a nibble to a full on bite. He never should have thrown it away. But then again, he probably should have kept it in the trash. But he still eats it all.

He stares at his empty hand.

“What have I done,” he mutters to himself.

But then again, he can hear Adrienne's voice in the back of his mind.

“Good boy,” her voice is saying. “That's a good boy.”

* * *

Dan can't get the Napoleon into his mouth faster. He eats it like he's starving to death, and it feels as though he is starving to death from the agony in his stomach.

Sabrina continues to show him that mischievous smile.

“That's it,” she says to him. “Good boy. That's a good boy.”


	34. Chapter 34

Joey rubs his temples as he makes his way to his car.

Ever since he ate that donut, his headache has gotten steadily worse. It started out small, from mere minutes after he swallowed the last bite when he took that drink of water. Here, it's as if with every step he takes, his head pounds harder and harder. By the time he reaches his car and fumbles the keys in his coat pocket, his head is in utter agony. Every little sound feels like a screech; every bit of light feels like a harsh glare. He can hardly keep his eyes open.

He rubs his eyes with one hand and takes his keys out of his pocket with the other.

He runs his fingertips along the keyhole. He slips the key into there.

He climbs into the seat.

It feels as though someone is shoving something sharp and hard right square into his forehead. The very sound of the car's engine feels like fingernails on a chalkboard.

It's a miracle he's even able to pull out into the parking lot, and then make his way over to the driveway.

This agonizing pain in his head makes its way down into his chest and his stomach. It's horrible. It feels as though his beautiful body has been impaled on cold iron. Joey rubs his eyes again as he turns onto the street.

And he doesn't recall anything after that.

* * *

“Danny? Are you okay, Danny?”

“What—What happened?” Dan sputters and glances up to find Scott looming over him.

It's as if someone had wiped his memory clean. The only thing he recalls is leaving Joey's place up in Oswego and then after that, nothing.

Mere blackness. Like he had gotten blackout drunk.

Dan slides his arms underneath him and lifts himself up. He's in Scott's apartment building there in Queens: laying there on his stomach on the shaggy, clean smelling carpet. How he wound up there is beyond him.

He raises his head for a better look at him and the lush dark hair dangling down around his face and his thick eyebrows.

“What—What the hell happened?” he stammered.

“That's what I'm curious about. I also just got off the phone with Valentina—Joey's been in an accident.”

“What!”

“Yeah, she said he was going somewhere and he went clear off the road and T-boned somebody all the while.”

Dan gapes at him. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, she said he was taken to the hospital there in Oswego, but he was awake the whole time, though. She said she'd be waiting for us once his parents show up, though.”

Dan lifts himself off of the floor and his stomach sloshes about as though he had drank down a whole two liter of soda. He almost loses his balance, but Scott catches him. He frowns as he gazes into Dan's bright blue eyes as they continue to return to focus.

“What the hell happened to you?” Scott demands in a hushed voice.

“I really don't have any idea.” Dan clasps a hand to the side of his head. “I remember taking Joe home and spending the night at his place, and then he drove me back, and then he drove back, and that's all I remember.”

“What's this right here?” Scott gestures to Dan's upper lip. He touches the patch of skin there, and examines his finger. Something dark brown there on the skin. He sniffles it.

“Chocolate,” he replies.

“Chocolate?” Scott echoes, folding his arms across his chest.

“My hips hurt,” Dan continues, “probably more so than my stomach—” He lets out a big hairy belch right then, one so loud that it echoes over the walls of the hallway. Scott bursts out laughing but then he abruptly stops to smell it.

“Pepper flakes?” he wonders aloud. Dan breathes into the palm of his hand and takes a sniff.

“Pepper flakes and some kind of dairy? My mouth feels like I just drank down a buncha milk.” He takes a look down at himself. Even though his body is still slim and lanky, it feels as though he had swallowed a water balloon, like his stomach should be swollen and heavy to accompany the feeling within him. Dan stifles another belch, this one tasting like bread this time. All that heavy food, heavy pastries. So heavy that it knocked him out.

But how?

Neither he nor Scott could answer it as they drove the four hours out of the City and into the quiet, untouched wilderness of upstate as the rain falls on them once again. Within time, they reach the small industrial city of Oswego as it rides the shore of Lake Ontario.

The feeling remains within Dan's stomach all the way to the hospital, and into Joey's room, where the nurses had propped him into an upright position.

His black curls had been tousled to one side so the nurses could tend to the side of his head. There are no cuts, no gashes, no bruises, nothing anywhere on his head or his bare shoulders and chest. And his brown eyes and his dark skin are as clear as ever; granted, if he's blinking an awful lot more than normal and his eyes are as big as marbles. His parents had taken their seats to his right: his mom has her hand on his wrist.

“There he is!” Scott declares once they enter the room.

“I was wondering when you guys'd show up,” Joey stammers a bit. “Val just left—no idea where she went, though.” He turns to his parents. “Mom, Dad—this is Scott and Danny, my band mates and my Eskimos.”

“Joseph Bellardini, what did I tell you about introducing us to your friends?” his mother scolds him.

“Mom, I was going to—it was just—picking out the perfect time, though.” He reaches up to rub his right eye; his eyelids flutter and whir as though he's waking up. Joey's parents stand to their feet to make room for Scott and Danny.

“Oh, no, no, stay right there,” Scott insists.

“Well, we were just about to leave anyway,” his dad points out, adjusting the lapels on his coat. “We were going to get breakfast and then come back tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay.”

His mother leans forward to embrace him and leave a little kiss on his forehead.

“See you tomorrow, baby,” she whispers into his ear.

“Be careful, please—” Joey begs her. His dad follows in giving him a hug, and then they skirt past Scott and Dan with kind smiles on their faces; Joey's dad shakes Scott's hand before they leave the room. Joey meanwhile rubs his exposed temple with two fingers.

“I love my mom more than life itself, but Jesus Christ Almighty, if I had a dollar for every time she said my real name in front of my friends…” His voice trails off. Scott and Dan take the spots next to him; he looks over at the latter with a puzzled look on his face.

“What happened to you?”

“I don't know,” Dan confesses with a shrug of his shoulders.

“No offense, Danny, but you look like shit. Like you look like how I felt before I wound up in here.”

“I feel like it, man. But let's get down to it: what happened to you, though?”

“I dunno, I went to go get something to eat and I had the worst headache. Like my head was absolutely pounding—” He gestures to the side of his head. “—I couldn't understand it, either. Next thing I know I'm here in the hospital and my mom's got her hands all over my stomach like she was doing CPR on me. The nurse told me I didn’t hit my head, though, which is good.”

“Val said you went off the road and crashed into someone.”

“That's what she told me earlier. She also told me she's getting me something to eat because I hadn't eaten since Danny and I left for the City.”

“So you hadn't eaten since yesterday?” Scott asks him.

“What?” Joey knits his dark eyebrows together at that.

“That was yesterday wasn't it? Like you guys went upstate together in the evening, Danny spent the night, and then you guys left in the morning. It's a four hour drive from here to Rockland, and then another four hours. Which means you went off the road yesterday evening.”

“Wait—” Joey shakes his head and pinches his eyes shut. “What time is it?”

“It's eleven thirty,” Scott replies. “I found Danny laying on the carpet when I got up this morning at about seven. And then we drove here.”

“Four hours,” Joey follows along, and then he turns to Dan. “You were laying in Scott's apartment complex?”

“Yeah, he was just laying there face down outside of my apartment door,” Scott answers.

“You went out to get something to eat, too?” asks Dan.

“Yeah. Right before I left, Marlene showed up at my doorstep.”

“Marlene?”

“Yeah. I don't remember anything else after that, either. It's really weird.”

Scott and Dan glance at one another.

“Why?” asks Joey, blinking several more times; he then reaches up to rub his eye.

“Danny had chocolate on his upper lip,” says Scott. “And when he belched, it smelled like pepper flakes.”

“Like, the donuts?”

“Maybe,” says Dan, “but I don't recall eating any.”

“I don't, either,” Joey confesses, and before he can say anything else, Valentina strides into the room with a tray full of cafeteria food for him.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"I'm a match, she's kerosene.  
>  You know she's gonna burn down everything.  
> She's an arsonist in her past time,  
> and I've been burned for the last time."_  
> -"She's Kerosene", The Interrupters

“The eagle has landed,” Marlene says to Valentina over the phone. She's calling her from her house once again: Philip and Beau had left to fetch dinner from the cafe on the other side of the Erie Canal there in Rochester. She knows Joey is still back at his sad little home there in Oswego, about an hour away, and she has him wrapped around their finger. The sole man from upstate New York living all by his lonesome: he could not resist it in the least.

“Dan and Joey took the bait?” Valentina asks in an excited tone.

“They sure did! Sabrina told me Dan pretty much went crazy and Joey ate up the donuts as if they were going out of style. They're ours now, Val.”

Valentina bursts out laughing.

“This is like shooting fish in a barrel, Mar,” she confesses. “Really, this is too easy. Just a bunch of dumb boys they are.”

“Hey, now, let's not get cocky,” Marlene points out. “You remember what happened with Ozzy and Randy.” There's a soft _click_ over the earpiece. “Oh, wait, hang on—I'm getting another call.”

She presses the button and brings the phone back to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Marlene?” She recognizes that strong New Yorker accent.

“Frank?”

“Yeah.” He hesitates on the other end. “Is this a bad time?”

“Oh, no, I have Valentina on the other line right now but I think she can wait, though. What's going on?”

“I wanted to call you to say that Joey's been in a car accident.”

Marlene gasps and brings a hand to her mouth.

“Oh, my God, really?” she asks, her voice trembling. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I'm at the hospital right now with him and Scott, and he's just as Joey as ever. I just wanted to tell you that. You know. The five of us and you ladies and whatnot.”

“Right, right, right. I'll tell Val about it.”

“Please do!” he exclaims.

“Okay, take care, Frankie.”

She presses the button again to bring Valentina back.

“Val? Are you still there?” she asks.

“Never left.”

“You're not gonna believe this. Joey was in an accident.”

“When!” she demands in a hushed voice.

“I don't know. But that was Frankie just now and he said Joey's in the hospital but he's conscious, though.”

“You know what this means, right?” asks Valentina.

“No. What?”

“This is going to get even easier, for Adrienne in particular.”

Marlene gasps. “Of course! He's been hurt—he's the most vulnerable of them. When we get the front man, it'll be like knocking over a round of dominoes.” Meanwhile, back there in Lake Oswego, there's a _click_ on Valentina's end.

“Oh, hang on, I'm getting a call,” she tells her. She presses the button and brings the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Val?” She recognizes that New Yorker accent, such that it makes her stop right in her tracks.

“Danny!” She feigns the tone of surprise in her voice. “Um, what's up?”

“Is this a bad time?” he asks her.

“Not at all. And—uh, I just got word that Joey was in an accident?”

“Yeah. He's okay, though. He'll be released later today but the docs are all tellin' 'em to take it easy, though.”

“Okay, okay, that's good, that's good.” The tone of her voice has picked up to a swift clip, much to Dan's curiosity.

“Is everything okay?” he asks her with a bit of hesitation.

“Yeah, yeah. I was just kinda—worried. You know.”

“He's alright, though, Val. I promise. Joe's tough. He's an upstate boy—they're like monoliths compared to us city slickers. He's Iroquois, too. They kicked the Mohicans' ass for God's sake.”

Valentina fetches up a sigh as she tries to calm down her heartbeat. But she's not so much worried about Joey as she is curious about why Dan sounds so lucid.

“Does Adrienne know?” he asks her.

“Not that I know of. I'll call her, though.”

“Also—Val?”

“Yeah?”

“While you're at it, could you ask Sabrina what she puts in those Napoleons?”

“Just—creme and some chocolate. That's about it.”

“That's it?”

“That's it. Why. Did someone tell you there was more to it?”

“No,” Dan insists, clearing his throat. She can sense the tension here. “Just—curious.” He snickers a bit.

“What's—What's so funny?”

“I know how it feels to have people pick you apart,” he confesses. “People always think I'm taller than I am when put in context of the stage. Anyways, I'll let ya get back to Marlene.”

The tone of his voice is warm and sweet like fresh wild honey. Valentina swallows but the nervous feeling within her is a bit too strong.

He hangs up and she's left there for a moment with the dial tone blaring into her ear. And then she remembers the other line.

She presses the button to bring back Marlene.

“Marlene,” she starts.

“Yes?” Her voice crackles there on the other end.

“We're fucked.”

“Why?”

“Dan's onto us. I also think he might like me.”

“Of course he likes you,” Marlene chuckles. “They're all a bunch of dumb boys, remember?”

“Yeah—yeah—” Valentina's voice trails off.

“Wait, Val. You're not actually falling for this guy are you?”

“N-No,” she stammers. “No, Mar, I swear.”

Marlene hesitates before speaking again.

“Valentina, I married Philip as a crutch, not because I'm in love with his ass. But he doesn't know that. If you can keep your feelings about Dan under wraps, you can get what you want with him. Make sense?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, then. I'll call up Adrienne and tell her what's up with Joey. Also bear in mind that it's the same story with her and Beau as it is with me and Phil. We were put here to seduce and destroy, not fall in love. You told me that that clicked from the day we met one another and you told me your life's story. Now be a good girl for den mother Marlene and quell those feelings for me.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Being so bad got me feelin' so good,  
>  showing you up like I knew that I would."_  
> -"Sorry Not Sorry", Demi Lovato

Once Valentina has released herself from her flash back, she gazes on at Scott, Dan, and Joey there in the room before her.

Scott shows her a big beaming smile while Dan all but flutters his eyelashes at her. She returns the favor with a thin lipped smile and a presenting of the tray of food for Joey.

He nibbles on his bottom lip. She closes the door with her hip.

The fine, hearty aroma of tomato soup fills the room. Joey gazes on at her as if he's watching an angel descend from the heavens.

He closes his eyes to savor that lovely aroma of the soup combined with a panini sandwich and a side of crispy crackers.

“Oh, man,” he says once she rests the tray atop his lap.

“Jesus, that smells delicious,” Scott remarks, rubbing his hands together. “I might have to get something for myself.”

She gazes on at Dan who bows his head a bit as if to look coy.

“Val, can I talk to you alone for a moment?” he offers.

“Sure,” she replies; she still has everything Marlene had told her within mind. The way his blue eyes sparkle and the way his hair flutters behind his head. It's something she can't help it. She's feeling it with him as he rounds Joey's hospital bed and leads her back out to the hallway. He leaves the door ajar enough so he can hear Joey and Scott speak to one another in that room.

She can't let her emotions win, though. She has to please Marlene as well Adrienne and Sabrina. If she succumbs to these feelings, the whole game plan goes straight to hell. She had thought of the plan on the drive here to the hospital and even more while she was down there in the cafeteria. It'll further keep these boys at bay: she's sure of it.

“So I've been thinking,” Dan begins, “if you're not doing anything too strenuous lately, I want to know—” He puts his arms behind his back. “—I want to know if you'd like to go out to dinner some time.”

She nibbles on her lip. She had written it down on a napkin and tucked it into her back pocket: she reaches in there and takes out a little piece of lined paper to show him.

“Here—”

“What's this?” he asks.

“It's all I can give you at the moment, Danny.”

He unfurls it to read her neat cursive hand writing:

“ _I'm in need of some ways to make fry bread, authentic matzo, and New York style pizza. You've got the money I gave you and so I need you to go into that lovely city of yours and buy it for me, pretty please_?”

“Fry bread?” he echoes.

“Yeah. Like the kind of stuff that I'd think Joey's family would eat on the especially cold upstate nights. Marlene wants us to start making a dessert pizza with the New York style dough.”

“You can't get it there in the City of Roses?” he asks her, showing her an unsure grin.

“If you can do that for me, I will take you out to dinner and then maybe go a little further than that.” She flashes him a wink.

“You know what I've been wanting to do?” he asks in a quiet voice as a nurse runs by with a paper mask covering her mouth and nose.

“What's that?”

“I've been wanting to go out to dinner with you in particular and then—having some fun in my car.”

“Ooh, I like the sound of that!” she says with glee and a glimmer in her eye. “But—you've gotta do that for me, though. You think you can?”

“Sure, sure. Can Scott and Joey join me?”

“If they want,” she confesses with a glance up at the ceiling and a shrug of the shoulders. “I was just thinking you would seeing as New York City being such the vast melting pot it is.”

“I could totally do it solo, now that I think about it. And yeah—totally, I still have that brick of money you gave me just burning a hole in my pocket.”

He peers down at her lips, all plump and perfectly red. Glossy like sugar cane.

He thinks back to when he fainted in the parking lot at her place. Maybe she had a moment of sorts given one can only go on baked goods for so long before they collapse to the black top.

Her dark eyes scan his face, all soft and boyishly handsome. She wonders if everything Sabrina had given him did more for him than Marlene had said. The donuts the latter had given Joey were enough to put him in the hospital and make him vulnerable enough. Sure, her body wants Dan for the taking but she wants to bring him to his knees. She wants to bring all five of them to their knees.

“So you'll do it?” she asks him.

“Yeah. I'll totally do it.” He flashes her a wink and stuffs the napkin into his jeans pocket. He leans toward her face, towards those decadent lips, all tight and lush like ripe cherries. Valentina shows him a little smile as he comes in closer and closer. He can smell the perfume on her neck and the aroma of baked goods wafting from the roots of her dark hair. She holds still: another nurse runs past them, down the hall towards the room at the very end.

He presses his lips onto hers.

Skin so soft, like that fiery red melted glaze.

Smooth, like the five women they've encountered.

Sweet, like those donuts, those Napoleons, those muffins, all of it.

Sinful and decadent, like Smell the Magic.

Dan pulls back to look at her in the eye. She returns the favor.

She has him now, especially once they return to the room to find Joey wolfing down his panini.

“This was a good call,” he tells Valentina with his mouth full. She directs her attention to Scott, who had taken a few crackers for himself.

She has these three now.

Now if only she can get Marlene, Adrienne, and Sabrina behind her then maybe she can perfect the whole realm.

 _Boys are dumb_ , she thinks to herself. _Like shooting fish in a barrel_.


	37. Chapter 37

Fry bread, matzo, and New York style pizza. Dan even ran it by Scott and Joey once he had returned to the hospital room. It all seems so easy and so out of reach, especially with the food there in the hospital.

“I don't really feel like doin' much, Danny,” Scott confesses with a shrug of the narrow shoulders.

“The nurse who came in a little bit ago said I could go home, though,” Joey points out.

“Yeah, but she said you can't drive for a day or so, though,” Scott reminds him, “which means Danny has to drive ya.” He knits his thick eyebrows together. “Matzo, you said?”

“Matzo, fry bread, and New York style pizza.”

“They can't get it themselves?” Joey asks, blinking several times. “We saw Portland—it's like the nicer version of the City.”

“Well, and Val made a deal with me that if I make it happen for them, she'll go out to dinner with me.”

“Oh, well, la di freaking da,” Joey teases him, tilting his head to the side in mocking tone. “Meanwhile, I've got feelings for a chick who won't even so much as visit me because of her rude ass boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I don't like Beau, either,” Scott joins in with a disgusted look on his face. “I especially don't like how he treated you, Joey.”

“Yeah, I'm still in disbelief that Adrienne and Marlene both were totally clueless about it.”

“Did you at least tell them about it?” asks Scott, knitting his thick eyebrows together again.

“Not really, but I just thought they would know about that sort of thing 'cause I'm the new guy. The upstate Injun fuck who smacked his head and really has to take a piss—”

He peels back the blankets and swings his legs around to the edge of the bed. Dan can see the elegant svelteness still remaining on his waist, but he still has an odd feeling within him, especially after the way in which he felt after waking up outside of Scott's doorstep. Joey almost loses his balance staggering to the bathroom door on the other side of the room, but he catches himself on the side of the door frame. Once the door's the closed, Scott shakes his head.

“Poor guy,” he says as Dan approaches the foot of the bed and takes a seat there.

“I'll say. Do we know exactly what happened, though? Aside from what we already know, that is.”

“He said he had a splitting headache to the point he couldn't see. At least, that's according to him. But that just sounds—”

“Odd,” Dan fills in.

“Yeah. I'm not saying Joey's crazy or anythin', but it's just—”

“Gives you a weird feeling.”

“Yeah. Yeah!” Scott falls into silence for a moment.

“Not to change the subject, or anything, but—” He shows Dan a little smirk. “—you really think Val will go out on a date with you?”

“Made a bet with her, yeah,” replies Dan. “If I do that for her, she'll go out to dinner with me and then we'll have a little more fun afterwards.”

“Oh, Danny, you stud!” Scott raises a hand to give him a high five.

“By the way, do Frankie and Charlie know we're here?” asks Dan.  
“Oh, yeah. Frankie told me they're still back there in the Bronx and he was actually thinking of going down to Smell the Magic to check on Sabrina and Sandra and tell them about it.”

Dan frowns at the sound of that.

“Did he say they're there at all?”

“Nah, I just caught him right as he was about to leave his place to see them.”

Dan glances off to the side as he catches the sound of water running. Joey's washing his hands.

But Scott catches a glimpse of the stern expression on his mate's face.

“What's up, Danny?”

“Sabrina and Sandra there in the bakery—I just—I have this odd feeling right now. I can't explain it.”

Scott shakes his head.

“I remember going back to my place and then going to Smell the Magic and then I don't remember anything after that.”

“Did you go in there?” asks Scott.

“Yeah, I did. I remember walking in there, but I don't remember anything after that.”

“You don't think there was extra tequila in those red donuts do you?”

“I don't know what I ate, to be honest. Maybe there could've been some extra booze in the thing I ate, I don't know.”

“You don't seriously think they're making their pastries drunk, do you?” Scott raises one eyebrow at the sound of that.

“When that happens, start calling me Tony,” Joey suggests as he slides out of the bathroom.

“Why Tony—?” Dan begins, and then he remembers Joey's middle name, “—oh!”

“Yeah.” He runs his fingers through his black curls. “So—I'm still a little dizzy but I think I've got my shit together now.”

“You look better, too,” Scott points out. “I remember getting here when your parents were here and you looked like you had seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, Danny, I had like no color in my face at all, sparing the olive tone here. Having no food in my belly didn't help matters, either…” His voice trails off as he peers about the room.

“What's the matter, Joe?” asks Dan.

“The twenty dollar question now is wondering what the nurses did with my pants.”

“Wonder what they're gonna make now with those ingredients,” Scott confesses from the back seat of the car.

It's in the middle of the afternoon and Dan had volunteered to drive Joey and Scott back to New York City to fetch what Valentina had asked for. Joey swore he was feeling up to the task, and thus, once he had found his clothes, he climbed into the front seat next to Dan. They're about an hour on the outskirts and the rain is already burgeoning in the dark gray sky overhead.

Every so often, Dan takes a glimpse over at Joey who, somewhere around Binghampton had slumped down in the seat with his hands resting on his flat stomach. He still had the healthy color in his face but the glazed look in his eye brought a bit of concern to Dan.

Around then, Scott also made it known that he was hungry.

And right now, Dan is feeling the hankering himself. He thinks about Valentina and her making the donuts in the back room of the Smell the Magic in Portland. He also thinks about her making tamales in the back room of the Moore Theater in Seattle. And now he's doing the duty of delivery boy for her. He can only imagine the type of pizza she has planned, and the thought of it makes the feeling in his stomach rise up even more.

Once Dan recognizes the surroundings, Joey groans in his throat and bows his head.

“I don't feel so good,” he confesses, rubbing his temples.

“Keep your eye on the road outside, Joe,” Dan assures him as he had been keeping his head down for the past twenty miles.

“No, it's not like that,” Joey clarifies, lifting his head. He pushes a thick tendril of curly hair back from his brow. The gray light softens the look of his skin, his nose, and his cheekbones; Dan can see his brown eyes are as clear as a bell. “—I mean, I don't feel good about any of this happening right now.”

“How so?” asks Dan, flashing him another glimpse.

“Marlene came to my apartment and gave me donuts,” he recalls in a low voice, “—I ate them and wound up in the hospital and ended up missing Guns and Whitesnake.”

“It's not like you ate a bat, Joe,” Dan points out, wagging his finger at him.

“Well, no,” Joey scoffs which he accompanies with a roll of his eyes. “But still. That's still what happened.”

Dan frowns at him as he hunkers down there in the passenger seat. Scott meanwhile is silent in the back seat behind them, having not said a word since they left the hospital.

“Let me ask you a question,” he begins, “how did you feel when you woke up?”

“When I woke up?” Joey echoes, squinting in the wake of the bright white light.

“Yeah. Like—” Dan thinks back to when he lay on the carpet outside of Scott's apartment door: his stomach felt as though he had swallowed down a whole gallon of liquid. “—how did your stomach feel?”

Joey hesitates there gazing out the window to the road outside. Dan flashes a glimpse over at him and the pensive expression upon his handsome face.

“Joey?” he asks him.

“Full,” Joey replies, turning his gaze over at him, “—and not in a good way. You know, it's not like when you eat a lot of homemade food and your stomach's nice and warm. It was like someone was sitting on me. Or like how when you drink a lot of soda and it feels like you swallowed a water balloon. Like that sloshing feeling, you know?”

“Yeah.”

He frowns and peers out the window again.

“Also, remember when we had dinner in the studio after we were at the bakery?” he recalls.

Dan takes another glimpse at him in time to find the stern expression on his face. “Of course.”

“Remember when I belted out that song afterwards?”

“Yeah.”

“It was like I felt super human right then,” Joey recalls. “But after Marlene showed up at my doorstep, it was weird. I felt normal one minute and the next thing I know, my head's pounding to the point I can't see. And the next thing I know after that, I'm in the hospital with my parents. Anyways, why do you ask?”

“'Cause I felt the same way when I woke up outside of Scott's apartment.”

“Really?” Joey furrows his brow and turns his head to look at him. “Like the exact same way?”

“Exact same way.”

“I actually thought Danny was hungover, to be honest,” Scott explains.

“That's—yes!” Joey declares, sitting up in the seat. “That's exactly how I felt when I woke up.”

“Me, too,” Dan says with a bit of reluctance.

“They're probably making their pastries drunk now,” Joey cracks and gives it a laugh.

“Which means you're Tony!” Dan follows up with a hoot of laughter.

“Call me Tony,” Joey declares as he flicks up the lapels of his coat. “Even better given we're going into the City on a mission of sorts.”

“I'll be Al, too,” says Dan, flashing a glimpse over at him as he adjusts himself there in the seat. Joey rests his elbow upon the top of the seat and pushes his hair back from the side of his neck.

“I can call you Al?” Joey asks him with a smirk on his face.

“You can call me Al!”

“Which means Scott's just—Ian.”

“Rose,” Scott corrects.

“Rose?” asks Dan.

“Rosenfeld, my given last name. I think if I go by Ian, I'll be flirtin' with disaster.”

“Alright! So we've got our drunk pastry names with us.”

“Or they can be our names if Scott wants to do Stormtroopers of Death again with Charlie and Billy,” Joey points out.

“Maybe,” Scott confesses with a shrug. “We'll see. We'll see how it goes here on our little grocery trip first.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."  
> -proverb

Joey, Dan, and Scott are met with rain on the car roof as they meander their way into the outskirts of New York City. The freeway is already drenched with puddles and rivulets of fresh rain water; Joey runs his fingers through his luscious black curls once he straightens himself upright. Dan taps his fingers on the rim of the steering wheel. Scott hums to himself from the back seat.

Just three guys going to the supermarket in Yonkers. Nothing to see here. This is a big city: surely no one would have any questions whatsoever for them. Once Dan takes the next exit into the nearest neighborhood, Joey speaks up again.

“Surprised she asked for fry bread,” he says in a low voice.

“Why's that?” asks Dan, flashing a glimpse over at him.

“Fry bread's a southwestern thing, like the Navajo and the Pueblos. If they're wanting to play in with my heritage—the Iroquois—they should making something like succotash and cornbread.”

“Huh. Really?” Dan knits his eyebrows together.

“Yeah. That—feels odd, too, now that I think about it. I know it's not my splitting headache talking, either. We've got more straight up corn, cranberries, and clams. Fry bread's something you use to make tacos.”

“Matzo's really easy to make, too,” Scott chimes in.

“It is,” Dan replies, peering into the rear view mirror.

“And, since there's a bakery down in Manhattan, you'd think they'd find some New York style dough for themselves,” Joey continues, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, they could go to the supermarket here in Yonkers, or down in Manhattan or—it's bit a drive but Coney Island, too,” says Scott, clearing his throat. “It's unique to this area so they could do it themselves if they wanna go back to Portland with it.”

“That and one of those girls could hand toss it themselves,” Dan points out.

“And that's all there is to it,” Joey concludes. The car falls into silence save for the downpour of rain on the roof and the wheels on the pavement. They roll up to the next stoplight and remain in silence for a moment.

“Something about this just bugs me, you guys,” Dan confesses.

“Me, too,” Joey replies, taking a glimpse over at him.

“But at the same time, Val asked me to do it because she promised to go out with me,” Dan points out.

“There is that,” says Scott from the back seat.

“Wonder what Adrienne would want,” Joey mutters under his breath.

“Adrienne probably wants to make you somethin' Iroquois, Joe,” Dan suggests. “I don't really know—Val didn't really tell me. But again—like what you said about the fry bread.”

“It's probably 'cause it's the quintessential Injun food,” says Joey with a shrug; the light turns green and they roll forward towards the nearest supermarket on the corner. Dan takes the spot closest to the front door and before they climb out to the torrential rain, Scott stops the two of them in their tracks.

“We are the Drunk Pastry Club,” he declares.

“Call me Tony,” says Joey as he props up the collar of his jacket.

“You can call me Al,” Dan joins in.

“And I'm the ordinary Rose.” Scott runs his fingers through his dark hair and pushes open the side door. The three of them rush into the safety of the bright lit but cozy market.

“Alright, Mr. Rose, where's the matzo at?” Joey asks Scott as he unzips his coat.

“Probably on the kosher aisle—” Scott leads them to the second aisle on the left; Dan huddles closer to Joey granted the chill of the rain is following them inside of there. They round the corner and behold the sight of the rice and kosher food. But before Scott can scout out the matzo dough, something catches Dan's eye. He peers down the aisle and recognizes that long lush dark hair resembling the ears of a cocker spaniel. He taps on Scott's shoulder and gestures down the way.

“Frankie!” Scott declares. Frank peers in front of him and ducks down the aisle. He has something yellow and dainty in one hand.

“Here, hide this.” He gives Scott what Dan realizes is a folded over sheet of yellow tissue paper.

“What's this?” Scott knits his thick eyebrows at him.

“Just take it, there's no time to explain.”

Frank dodges past them to where they came in from at the supermarket: Dan watches him duck behind the corner and he notices Charlie running across the end of the aisle to meet up with his nephew.

“What even—” Scott mutters but his voice trails off. Dan turns his head to see what's the matter and Scott had unfurled the paper.

“What is it?” asks Joey.

“'Two eggs, a tablespoon of active dry yeast, a quarter cup of butter, a shot of tequila'—hold up, this is the recipe for the donuts.”

“Where did they find it?” Dan sputters in a hushed voice.

“I don't have any idea and I kinda don't want to know, either.” Scott shoves it onto Joey's chest. “Here, Joey, hide this in your coat.”

“Why should I hide it?” he demands as he clutches the paper to his stomach.

“Because you're the upstate guy. If Frankie and Charlie took this from the bakery down in Manhattan, you can hide it upstate.”

“Yeah, but there's gonna be one upstate, though, Scott!” Joey points out.

“So?” Scott shrugs at that. “At least you guys aren't stacked on top of each other like we are here. They'd have to turn all of New York state upside down in order to find you.”

“We can hope that, but alright, fine.” Joey folds the paper back up and slips it into the interior of his coat.

“Alright, Tony,” Scott begins, wiping his hands together. He then turns to the left for a box of matzo dough. “Let's get the stuff for fry bread.”

“Dough, leavening, and lard,” Joey says with a smirk on his face. “I am the Injun after all.” He says that last part with a snicker, which makes both Scott and Dan giggle with him.


	39. Chapter 39

Meanwhile, over on the other side of the supermarket, Frank and Charlie duck behind a rack containing the day old pastries and cakes and things. Scott, Dan, and Joey are still near the front of the building. That memory of the cabinet there in the back room of the bakery still hangs with the both of them.

Frank spots a row of hams and chickens in the freezer in front of him. If they're caught here in the supermarket, he would lunge for the biggest honey baked ham there before him and use it as a baseball bat against Sabrina if he has to. She might seduce them and entice them but he can fight it. He knows he can fight it.

He turns his head to Charlie as he's eyeing the little boxes of day old cakes and cupcakes and things before their faces.

“Don't even think about it, Charlie,” Frank scolds him.

“I need it, Frankie,” Charlie pleads.

“No, you don't. You don't! You don't!”

Charlie grimaces and sets his hands on his stomach to ease the hunger pangs within.

“I'm so hungry, Frankie,” he begs.

“Don't—don't—” Frank sticks his hand before Charlie's face to block out his sight. Charlie dodges back to look around his fingers, but then Frank holds onto the shoulder of his jacket and drags him away from there. The two of them weave past a young woman in a sweater and an old man in a wind breaker; as Charlie accidentally knocks over a few cans next to the old man with his hand and forearm, he skids to a stop and picks up two of them for him. The man shows him a smile before thanking him; and he runs after Frank who had hung up there at the next corner with a smile on his face.

Frank leads Charlie down the medicine aisle, past the pharmacy and the section containing the wine and champagne, and past a pair of floppy double doors billowing in the back draft. Charlie catches a glimpse of something shiny on the inside of the doors and skids to a stop. Frank whirls around to see him there.

“What's up, Charlie?” He saunters up to him to join in peering inside of the back room there. On one side of the corridor there, Frank notices a series of shelves upholding small black boxes with the words “Smell the Magic” scribed on the sides in those frilly hot pink letters. Charlie licks his lips and vouches forward.

“No!” Frank declares, taking Charlie's hand and yanking him away from there. The two of them run like hell to the front of the market; Frank skids to a stop before the front door.

“Hey, there's Joey and Scott—”

Sure enough, Joey and Scott hurry over to the two men panting and struggling to catch their breath. The former runs his fingers through his black curls and adjusts the lapels on his leather jacket. Nothing can deny the look of concern on his handsome face.

“Danny's paying for the stuff right now,” Scott explains as he runs his fingers underneath his bangs which in turn reveals his thick dark eyebrows.

“Besides, what was that all about?” asks Joey as he opens his coat for the yellow paper.

“We nicked that recipe from them,” Frank explains, “—it's from the back room of the bakery down in Manhattan. And I've been trying to keep Charlie from succumbing—” He yanked on Charlie's arm to keep his eyes from wandering into other people's baskets. “—succumbing to temptation.”

“Temptation,” Scott echoes, knitting his eyebrows together.

“Yeah, it's—” Frank clears his throat. “—kinda way too easy how they're messing with us, to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” asks Scott. Dan emerges from around the cash register with a paper sack in his arms: the feathery crown of his hair is so small when compared to everyone else in the room. His eyes light up at the sight of Frank and Charlie, and yet he has a perplexed look on his face.

“I feel like this was too easy,” Dan confesses once he comes within earshot.

“Frankie says that, too,” says Joey.

“I stole the recipe for the donuts because they're a little too addictive,” Frank explains.

“You stole a recipe?” Dan sputters in a hushed voice.

“I stole it because Charlie and I are trying to find out what's going on.”

“Where is it then?”

“I have it,” Joey tells him, raising his hand.

“Joey has it,” Scott echoes.

“Find out what's going on—Frankie.” Dan frowns at him.

“Danny, listen to me—”

“Sure, they're good but I think that's bit of a stretch,” Dan admits with a shrug of the shoulders.

“Explain Charlie then,” Frank points out; Charlie himself keeps turning his head to look at a couple of women carrying cakes and a box of donuts. He has bit of a frazzled expression on his face. Frank yanks him back towards him. Dan tilts his head to the side. He still has no memory of what happened before waking up in front of Scott's front door.

“Well, we're—going back to Manhattan,” he says with a bit of reluctance. “Val wanted me to get some things for her.”

“At least I think we're going back down to Manhattan,” Scott points out. “I thought we were going back upstate?”

“Guess not?” Joey shakes his head.

“Well, let's do it anyway,” Dan suggests as he moves the paper sack onto one hand so he can nudge a lock of hair back from the side of his face.

“Char and I'll follow you guys there—” Frank jerks Charlie's arm again to regain his attention.

“By the way, if anyone asks,” Scott begins again, “the three of us are going by Tony, Al, and Rose.”

“So I can be Joe and Charlie can be Chuck?” Frank asks with a chuckle.

“If you want,” Joey replies as he tugs down on the hem of his jacket to keep the yellow piece of paper on the interior there.

“Keep that thing protected, Joe,” Frank warns him.

“Yeah, it's starting to come down pretty hard now…” Scott eyes out the door at the sheets of torrential rain falling from the dark sky overhead.


	40. Chapter 40

Dan is behind the wheel of his car and Scott is next to him in the passenger seat; Joey, who confessed to still feeling dizzy, took to the back seat. He had sunk down in the middle seat and rested his arms up on the tops of the seats on either side of him. He sighs through his nose and relaxes there against the smooth leather. Down by his right foot is the paper sack with the food Valentina had asked for.

In the rear view mirror, Dan takes a glimpse every so often to see him there: the crown of curls atop his head took up most of the view in the reflection, where he could make out the sight of his brow and his brown eyes gazing out the window.

Like a little boy in the back of his parents' car.

Dan also takes an occasional glimpse into the side mirror to check on Frank and Charlie following close behind them.

The car remains silent all the way down to Manhattan: the sole sound comes from the rain on the roof over their heads. Dan wonders what could be waiting for them there at the bakery, that is if Valentina wanted them to go down there. Sandra could be there, or they all could be there for all the five of them know. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and takes a glimpse over at Scott, and his resting his chin in the palm of his hand and his elbow on the top of the door. He notices Scott hunching his shoulders a bit.

“Are you cold?” asks Dan as they roll up to a stop light.

“Hm?” Scott glances over at him.

“You look cold, dude.”

“Nah, I just gotta bad feelin' about this, Danny,” he confesses. “Something about this feels all wrong.”

“We're almost there, though,” Dan points out; the light turns green and they pull forward. He takes another glimpse in the rear view mirror to look at Joey.

“You don't look comfortable, Joey,” he chuckles. Scott turns around in the seat to find Joey had sunk down in the seat to where he almost lay on his back there on the leather and yet kept his arms up on the tops of the seats: the bottom hems of his shirt and his jacket had ridden up his body to show off most of his flat belly where his collar and his lapels are pressing up against the bottom of his face so Scott could only see his eyes and the tip of his nose. He burst out laughing at the sight of him.

Joey lifts his head out to show his lips and his chin.

“I'm actually quite comfy, Daniel,” he retorts, “or should I say 'Al'.”

“You can call me Al!” Dan declares as they enter mid town Manhattan and closer to Smell the Magic.

“Anthrax by day, the Drunk Pastry Club by night,” Scott jokes. Within time, Dan pulls up to the curb outside of the bakery and kills the engine. The rain pours down even more as they climb out to the sidewalk; Joey tugs down on his shirt and his jacket once he swings his legs out of the back of the car. He picks up the paper sack once he's outside with Dan and Scott. The three of them bow their heads and turn around in time to find Frank and Charlie joining them there.

“We've got the stuff,” Dan declares.

“Let's see if this is where we should've gone to,” Scott commands, squinting against the falling rain over their heads. He tugs open the smoked glass front door and heads inside first. Before walking inside behind them, Frank stops Joey in his tracks.

“What'd you do with that paper?” he asks in a low enough voice.

“Under Scott's seat,” Joey replies in an equally low voice.

“Okay, good.” Frank pats him on the shoulder. Joey walks in first, followed by Frank himself and then Charlie. The bakery is warm and cozy and smelling of fresh baked bread; the five of them congregate there near the front door in silence.

“Anyone here?” Joey asks aloud.

 _Click_.

The five of them whirl around to find Marlene locking the door behind them. She lifts her head and gives her short bob of red hair a little toss. She shows them a friendly little smile.

“I assume there's food in there,” she states, nodding at the paper sack in Joey's arms.

“Um—yes?” Joey's bottom lip trembles at the sight of her. Her smile never leaves her face as she saunters over to him to take it. He slips his hands into his jacket pockets and huddles closer to Frank. She takes a peek into the sack and nods her head in affirmation; Frank and Charlie huddle closer to Joey. Dan and Scott inch back to the three of them. Marlene gives her hair another toss back.

“The five of you are invited to have a feast with us,” she says, unfazed.

“Here?” asks Dan, relaxing.

“Here. Here in your neck of the woods.”

“But we're really not that hungry, though,” Scott blurts out; he pushes a lock of dark hair back from his face.

“Nonsense,” she replies, showing him the tip of her tongue. “When we were in Portland with you boys, you didn't hesitate to eat up the pastries at our little party.”

“'Cause it was kinda early in the morning,” he points out, “we didn't have breakfast yet.”

 _Don't push it, Scott_ , Dan thinks. _Don't push it_.

Marlene nibbles on her bottom lip and turns to the counter top to her left. She sets the paper bag on the counter and then turns back to Scott. She strides over to him and he backs up towards the wall. His four band mates watch him back up to the shelves holding the muffins. Marlene strokes his chest which makes him push his back to the wall. She brings her face closer to his: the only thing Dan can see is his thick eyebrows knitting together from worry.

Scott swallows out of nervousness as she brings her pouted lips closer to his. He gazes into her eyes as they burn into his mind. Burning like a pair of cherries on cigarettes, or rather cherries on cakes.

“Get in the back room,” she whispers. “You first.”

“Me first?” he sputters.

“Yes.”

He glances past her to see Dan and Frank clasping their hands over their mouths, Joey with a mortified look on his face, and Charlie with his hands atop his head.

“Pay no attention to them,” she whispers. “Come with me, baby.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was actually eating pizza as I wrote this oof

Scott takes his seat there in the back room with a bit of reluctance. She had set up a table there in between the ovens and the cutting boards. He runs his fingers through his hair there on the side of his head. His heart hammers inside of his chest, such that his hand quivers and shakes. He turns his head to the doorway to see Joey, Dan, Frank, and Charlie congregating there at the edge of the frame.

He looks in front of him to behold a chopping block and a series of black handled knives with silvery blades. The metal making up the blades is pristine and shiny, as if Marlene had just bought them. He watches her disappear behind the chopping block and the rack with the paper sack cradled in her arms.

Silence sinks over the room. Scott hunches his shoulders and purses his lips. He eyes the one knife that looks big enough to cut right through bone.

Dan and Joey have their eye on him as they both hang there by the door frame. The former knits his eyebrows together and examines Scott forearms and elbows as he sets his hands in his lap to steady himself. Nothing else to do. Joey takes a peek around the corner to see what's going on behind the rack: Marlene had disappeared.

The back room is chilly, but not in a literal sense. Dan directs his attention to the thick shape of Scott's eyebrows: the fact they don't move or make any sort of other shape gives him a weird feeling within.

He turns his head to look at Frank and Charlie inching their way towards the display case. The latter rubs his eyes and takes a peer into the back of the case. His hand quivers and shakes more than Scott's hands. Frank watches him with a fretful expression on his fair face. Dan returns his attention to Joey, who cranes his neck into the room. Marlene had completely vanished into thin air.

Dan returns his attention back to Scott who blinks several times and sighs through his nose. Marlene had gone away and now he could relax.

And then Sabrina appears on the far side of the room in that red apron over a silken red bra and a matching miniskirt and with a silver platter in one hand. Joey snickers through his nose. Dan can't help but laugh with him.

The next thing Dan knows he catches a whiff of freshly made pizza and fry bread. Scott raises his thick eyebrows at the sight of her striding towards him. He shifts his weight in the chair. She sets the platter down before him. There's a large slice of pizza, one about the size of milk jug, a round piece of fry bread, also quite large, and a quintet of plain looking matzo balls the size of baseballs.

"Is—Is all this for me?" asks Scott in a little squeak of a voice.

"Yes. Every last bit of this."

"Can... they—" He gestures to Dan and Joey huddled there in the doorway. "—have any bite of this?"

"No."

"But there's... an awful lot here."

Sabrina places her hands on the face of the table and leans forward so he can take a peek down her apron. Dan nibbles on his bottom lip.

"Eat," she whispers into his face.

"But I'm not hungry," he confesses.

"Eat," she repeats, nonplussed. "Eat—you're skin and bones."

Scott takes a look down at the slice of pizza before him: the cheese is melted just enough and the sauce looks fresh made, as if she had crafted it right out of tomatoes. Like a pizza straight out Coney Island.

"What part of New York are you from again?" she asks him in a breathy voice.

"Queens," he replies with a hard swallow. She nods her head as if affirming something.

"So this is right at home for you."

"Yeah..."

"Eat. Or I or Mrs. Jackson will feed it for you."

Scott takes a quick glimpse over at Dan and Joey, the latter of whom sinks back a bit out from the doorway. Dan huddles closer to him.

"Don't pay attention to them," she consoles him. "Bon appetit, little man."

Scott sighs and keeps his eye on Sabrina's chest for a moment, and then he lowers his gaze to the slice before him. He picks it up by the crust, which Dan can tell is thick, firm, and soft. He hesitates there for a moment: Joey shudders, and Dan knows it's from the memory of eating those donuts and his winding up in the hospital. Scott brings the slice to his mouth for a bite. He almost chokes on it.

"Fuck—" he gasps, and he brings his free hand to his mouth.

"What?" asks Sabrina.

"Hot."

"It's fresh out of the oven, baby. Fresh off the peel."

Scott takes another look down and blows on the slice, right where he had taken a bite before, and tries again. He closes his eyes.

A _thud_ to Dan's left breaks his line of attention. He whips to the left to find Charlie had knocked over a stack of boxes filled with chocolate morsels. He scrambles to pick them back up and put them back in their place, but one of them had opened: morsels cover the hard wood floor.

"Damn it, Charlie!" Frank jeers. Dan returns to Joey, who's totally unfazed by what's happening behind them. Sabrina turns her gaze to the doorway.

"You're next, Bellardini," she whispers. "It's funny—you actually have 'lard' in your name. And your name is a mouthful. A mouthful of lard for a scrawny underfed boy."

Joey swallows and hunkers down a bit. He then turns his head to show Dan a concerned look.

"How did she find out my real name?" he asks in a faint whisper, to which Dan shakes his head. He then watches Scott some more, who then relaxes there in the seat and eats the slice of pizza as if it's something straight out of Coney Island. But he said he wasn't hungry. And yet he's eating it as if he hadn't eaten in days.

Dan can hear him breathe harder and heavier with each bite. The next thing he knows, Scott is practically shoveling the otherwise huge slice into his mouth. It can't get into his mouth faster. Bits of sauce spread over his face like he's a little boy eating it for the first time. Dan shakes his head in rigorous fashion. Sabrina turns to them with a malicious look in her eye.

She reaches onto the platter for the fry bread which is actually larger than the actual slice of pizza. Joey raises his eyebrows and shakes his head at the sight of it.

She saunters over to him with it in hand. He staggers back, to which lunges back towards Frank and Charlie, both of whom are busy cleaning up the chocolate. Joey runs right into the rack up against the wall, the one with the muffins. Sabrina rests a hand on his chest. Dan can't see the expression on her face, but Joey pinching his eyes shut, wincing, and turning his head away from her as if she's feeding him something disgusting.

"No!" Joey squeaks out. "No! No, God please, no! No!"

"Eat it," Sabrina begs, running the fry bread under the tip of his nose. "You can't resist the digging feeling inside your stomach—the need for nostalgia, the feeling of home—it's everything you want, Joey. I can give it to you and I can give it to each and every one of you."

"NO! NO, GOD DAMN IT!"

Sabrina turns her head to look to the other side of the room.

"Charlie—Charlie, baby doll, I need some help here," she commands.

As if he's under some kind of spell, Charlie stops in place much to Frank's surprise. He rises up and pads over to Sabrina and Joey to help her force feed him.

"Get him, Frankie!" Dan yelps. "I'll get Scott!"

Frank lunges forth and tackles Charlie. Dan runs into the room to yank Scott right out of his seat before he can shovel in the last two of the matzo balls.

"Fuck!" Dan groans as he puts his arms around Scott and yanks him right out of his seat. He drops one of the matzo balls.

"Ow?" Charlie groans out on the other side of the doorway.

"I need—" Scott begs. "I need!"

"NO YOU DON'T!" Dan shrieks.

Joey shoves Sabrina off of him to which she lands on Frank and Charlie. She drops the fry bread on the floor; Dan and Scott leap frog over them. Frank shoves Sabrina off of him and drags Charlie off of the floor.

"FUCK!" Joey shouts.

"FUCK!" Frank echoes as they run out of the bakery. "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! SHIT! FUCK!"

The rain falls upon them in thick torrential sheets as they rush back out to their cars. Dan shoves Scott into the passenger seat, to which he drops the last matzo ball on the sidewalk. Joey dives right into the back seat. Frank drags Charlie right into the back seat of the car behind them.

Dan jingles the keys such that they slip right out of his fingers.

"Shit, I dropped the keys!"

Scott fingers the door handle; Joey reaches around the seat to grab his wrist to stop him. Dan scoops the keys off of the floor under his feet and sticks the one right into the ignition. The car roars to life and he pulls away from the curb there.

Panting, Dan drives blind into the streets of Manhattan with Frank and Charlie right behind them. Scott groans and runs his fingers through his wet hair.

"Jesus, that was a large slice of pizza," he remarks; he sets a hand on his stomach.

"Of course it was," Dan quips. "I think we're gonna be marked after this."

"When all this blows over, call me Bubbles," Joey says in a broken voice.

"Joey Bubbles?" Dan chuckles.

"Joey Bubbledonna," Scott laughs with him. "I can dig it."

"Joey Bubble-butt—which is what I think I could get after probably eating that friggin' fry bread."

They fall back into silence for a moment, silence except for the rain on the roof. Dan sighs through his nose. He thinks back to Valentina's kindness to them, all those times she was nice to them. He thinks about it so much that he shakes his head.

"What'chu shakin' your head for, Dan?" asks Scott.

"I feel bad," he confesses.

"Don't even think about it, Danny," Joey warns him.

"I really, really am, though, Joe. Maybe they are just trying to feed us. Maybe we overreacted."

"Danny, no."

Dan rolls up to the stoplight, which turns back to green in a few seconds. He lunges to the left turn lane and flips a U-turn.

"Danny, no!" Joey cries out.

"We overreacted, Joey, they're just being nice to us!" Dan insists.

"Why feed Scott and not us, though?"

"To test it out. She asked him where in New York he's from and she wanted to give it to him first 'cause Queens is closest to Coney Island. She gave you fry bread because she knows it's Indian and it's the only Indian thing she probably knows."

Joey fetches up a sigh.

"Well, I feel reeeeeeeally stupid now," he confesses.

"I do, too," says Dan, "I'm sure Frankie does, too."


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything"

Dan rubs the tip of his nose with his fingertips and fetches up a sigh. He peers into the rear view mirror at Joey resting the side of his head in his hand: he gazes beyond him to the car behind them. Through the sheets of torrential rain, he can see the door swing open.

“I have no doubt we fucked this up,” he confesses in a low voice. Scott stares off into space, and Dan knows he has nothing else to say right then; he sighs through his nose once again and opens the door. He steps out to the rain, where he’s met with Charlie, who hunches next to him with his hands stuffed into his pockets and his head bowed.

“Whaddya doin’?” he demands over the noise of the rain.

“Follow me,” Dan coaxes him. He leads Charlie into the bakery, where Sabrina is cleaning up the remainder of the morsels. She’s still dressed in her apron and lingerie; she raises her head from the space on the floor there. She glares at both men as their long hair drips on the wooden floor with rain water.

“What do you bastards want?” she demands.

“I came to apologize,” Dan tells her. “We were overthinking things and we thought—“ He stops.

“What?”

“That—something was a little off.”

Sabrina stands to her feet and presses her hands to her hips. Her near black dreadlocks stand strong and high on the top of her head like a crown.

“We wanted you guys to get us some things so we can all have dinner together,” she elaborates in a terse tone of voice. “There’s no ulterior motive with us, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“So I was right... Scott was just there to test out the pizza,” Dan mutters under his breath.

“Right, and Joey was to try out the fry bread. It’s all we know about Indians. We’re from the West Coast—we don’t really know about the Iroquois, if that’s what he is.”

“He is,” Dan assures her.

“Not even Marlene knows about them, and she’s from upstate New York. But she suggested fry bread because it’s what she knew offhand about them. It’s not like we know everything. Sure, we’re bakers, but we’re not that knowledgeable. We try to do our best for everyone who walks in through that door, and we try especially harder for our favorites.”

Dan’s heart skipped a beat when she said “favorites”. He felt so dumb at this point.

“What’s all this then?” asks Charlie; he gestures to her apron over her lingerie.

“Because I wanted to look sexy for you guys? Charlie, it’s not like we’re a bunch of whores undermining you. If we wanted to get in your pants right away, the each of us would. And Adrienne and Marlene are both in relationships! So it’s ridiculous to think that.”

She shakes her head at him, and Charlie sinks back a bit right there next to Dan.

“Val will be waiting for you, though, afterwards,” she explains, wagging her finger at him.

“What about me, though?” asks Charlie.

“What about you?” Sabrina retorts. “Bring your boys in here and take your shoes off. It’s party time, big boy.”

*****************************************

Scott and Joey take their seats at the table in the back room. The feeling around them is tense, especially after what had happened earlier. Frank takes his spot there to Joey’s right, while Dan and Charlie sink down in the chairs across from them. Joey runs his fingers through his black curls and Scott folds his arms over his chest.

“Cannot believe we’re in here,” he mumbles.

“We fucked up, though, Scott,” Dan points out. “They’re not bad girls. They just wanna help us out.”

“Is Adrienne gonna be here?” asks Joey.

“No idea, Joe,” Dan admits with a shrug of his shoulders. “Don’t hold your breath, though.”

Joey sighs through his nose and slumps in his chair. Frank glances down at his wristwatch once, twice, three times. Charlie frowns at him.

“What’s with you?” he asks with a slight nod to his head.

“Just checking the time and crunching some numbers,” Frank explains, and flicks some of his lush dark hair back from the side of his neck. 

“Sabrina left like forty-five minutes ago,” Dan points out.

“Right! She didn’t tell us where she was going, either.”

Charlie rubs his eyes and bows his head.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” he groans. “First we’re meant to believe they’re good, and then they’re bad and wanna poison us or somethin’, and now we’re supposed to believe they’re tryin’ to serve us? This is all so fucked up it gives me a fuckin’ headache!”

“Charlie, calm down,” Scott orders in a firm voice. “I’m sure you know homemade pizza takes a while, especially for novices. She’ll be back—“

But before Scott can finish, Valentina slinks out from behind the door frame wearing a smooth fitted black evening gown. Dan gapes at her from the other side of the table. Charlie almost gags on his own oxygen. Frank smooths the hair atop his head even though it’s still merely a little bit wet with rain water. Joey had slouched so much that he almost slides out of his seat: he catches himself on the rim of the seat. Scott’s chair tips back and he falls right onto the floor: his black Doc Martens stick up from underneath the table like two bamboo shoots.

She’s holding a large silver platter and they all know that its contents are for them, especially when she sets it down on the table before them. Within seconds, the previously barren room fills with that warm smell of pizza, fry bread, matzo balls, and cooked vegetables with butter and kisses of salt and pepper.

“Bri told me what happened,” she starts as Scott pulls himself back up onto the chair. “It’s kind of my fault. I should’ve been a little more up front with you guys, although I thought I was at first. We really just wanna help you fellas. You’re starving artists from here in New York City and we’re a bunch of girls who have enough money behind us to purchase an island. It only makes sense for me to fully stand behind that. I don’t wanna give off any mixed messages—“ She glances at Charlie. “—nor do I wanna make it seem like you’re not welcome.” She peers over at Joey and the apprehensive look in his eye. “I like you guys. I like you, and I know Adrienne, Bri, and Marlene all do, too. We wouldn’t wanna come close to either of you—“ She takes a glimpse at Frank and then Dan. “—if we didn’t like you. So—I hope you guys forgive me. I take the blame. I’m just a girl from a broken home down in the desert who couldn’t go to art school. All I want is to connect with people, especially boys.” She looks at Scott, who gives her a small but definite smile.

“Makes perfect sense,” Charlie says in a soft voice and a shake of his head.

“Absolutely,” Joey adds.

“We’re geeks, we overthink shit,” Scott assures her.

“Fuhgettaboutit,” Frank declares with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, fuhgettaboutit!” Dan calls from the end of the table.

“Anyways, enough with the bollocks,” she says, rubbing her hands together. “I hope you guys are hungry. There’s a lot of food here. Bon appetit, my boys.”


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Leave it up to Mr. Dylan to encapsulate the feeling of being punch-drunk, like how our five boys are here. EVERYBODY MUST GET STONED!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fm-po_FUmvM)

"Jesus Christ Almighty," Scott breathes out as he runs his fingers through his hair and leans back in his chair.

"Yeah, I know—fuck." Frank tilts his head back against the top of the chair, and closes his eyes, and folds his hands over his stomach. "I never ate so much in my life."

Joey had long unbuttoned his pants and took off his shirt: he's slouching there with one hand pressed his eyes and his other hand resting on his very full stomach. Charlie lay down on the floor with his pants stripped off and his legs spread out even though that isn't really help matters. Dan lay his head down on the table as he felt that to be the sole relief from the heavy feeling inside of his stomach.

They had eaten too much and Valentina knows it. She's quite full herself, given she had her own little bit of pizza and some matzo balls alongside Dan, but nothing of their level. They ate more than when she took them out to lunch in Seattle, that's for sure. She snickers at the sight of each of them all before her.

"My goodness," she coos at the sight of Dan with the crown of his head pointed at her. "I knew you fellas were hungry, but nothing of this magnitude, though. God damn."

"It was just so _fucking_ good," Charlie moans from the floor.

"Yeah, that pizza was—" Scott hesitates as he strives to think for the right words. "—was—was—was—" He stops because he knows it's totally useless to think of anything else helpful to an otherwise pithy statement. Valentina gives her black hair a toss as she turns to Joey to her right.

"How's our Indian gentleman doing?"

"Right now I'm trying to belch without puking," he groans, rubbing his eyes. "Jesus—"

"So tell me," she starts again, and folds her arms atop the table in front of her breasts, "what's in the world of the Iroquois that makes you all so... I wanna say, _delicioso_?"

"Corn and—corn? Corn. Yeah, corn. Lots of that... that yellow grainy shit. I'm sorry, I can't hardly think."

"Good, good, that's good," she remarks with a slight slither of her tongue like that of a snake. She eyes his bare brown nipples and his flat stomach, now a bit swollen from all the food he had eaten. She thinks back to when they were in that hotel room and she stood over him and ran her fingers along that soft brown skin on his waist. She's about to do it with him again but she has no idea if Dan and Frank are both even awake right there right next to her.

Joey groans in his throat. He and Charlie both had overdone it in particular: it was all that fry bread combined with that sweet New York pizza. Sabrina did have a point about Joey, but she did mention that other thing about Charlie before hand. Valentina licks her lips and stands to her feet.

She sashays past Dan and stops right there behind him. She eyes the soft smooth skin there on the side of his neck. A piece of his hair lays over his eyes, but she can tell he must have dozed off. She lifts her gaze to Frank across the table, who too had fallen asleep. She looks over at Scott and his big yawn. Joey still has his hand over his eyes, so she can't tell if he's awake or not.

But then she turns to Charlie there on the floor. His dark hair fans out from his head and his bangs dangle down in his eyes.

Valentina ambles over to him and stands right over his head so she looks at him upside down. He gazes up at her with a dazed look on his face.

"You got room for dessert?" she asks him.

"Blow us up like balloons why don't ya," Scott grumbles. But Charlie blinks several times at her: he's laying there flat on his back with no pants on. He wags his finger at her.

"First of all, no. Second of all, no."

Valentina shows him a pout as she stoops down to come face to face with him. He shakes his head. But she reaches under her skirt for her underwear. She lets them drop down her legs to her ankles and the floor. She steps out of them and stands right over Charlie's face.

She had done with Frank before, but now she's about to do while they're all in a daze.

"Come on, Charlie, you know you want some of this apple pie," she insists in a husky voice.

"Uh?"

She squats down over his face. He makes a strange whimper noise but he's got some pie right there. Charlie can't resist with his tongue. Free dinner, and now free dessert! Sabrina could've given him free dessert, but his train of thought unraveled at the taste of Valentina's lips.

Her tongue slithers out of her mouth as she relishes the feeling between her legs. Frank had a taste and now he is, too!

"My name does in fact have 'lard' in it," Joey groans out. "Bel _lard_ ini. Joey Bel _lard_ ini!"

He then lets out a big hairy belch and brings a hand to his mouth to pardon himself. Scott rolls his head over to glance at him with a delirious look on his face.

"Damn, Joe, I felt that," he remarks.

"That felt good, though. Fuck." Joey runs his hands over his soft flat stomach but he doesn't seem to be paying attention to what's happening on the other side of the table there. "Where's my shirt?"

"Your shirt?" Frank blurts out and raises his head from the top of the chair.

"Anyone seen my shirt?" Joey shifts in his chair: he looks down at his stomach which feels way heavier and thicker than it looks. His undone pants hug his skin as though they're painted on.

"I feel drunk," Frank sputters.

But none of them pay any attention to what's going on there next to Dan, who's still sound asleep. Charlie runs his tongue inside her lips to taste her. Valentina's about to reach a perfect point when Scott tips his chair back too far yet again and falls back onto the floor.

She lifts up and lunges for Charlie's waist. She takes out his length and pokes and strokes his skin. He gasps and lets out a soft whimper.

"I should take you boys home with me," she suggests.

"Back to the City of Roses?" Charlie moans.

"To my other home," she corrects herself as she kisses his exposed head. "So we can all have a bit of fun together."

"What about our date?" Dan asks out of the blue. She lifts her gaze to his still laying his head there on the table, but she can tell his eyes are still closed.

"We'll get to it, I promise," she assures him. A little smile curls across his serene face, and she brings her lips back to Charlie's head for another kiss and a lick. She tugs his underwear back on before Joey sees her as he's trying to help Scott off of the floor; but he's taking his sweet time standing up from the chair. Maybe he isn't going to stand up.

But she mustn't push it, especially with Dan there.


	44. Chapter 44

“Come on, Charlie, put your pants back on. I'm taking you boys home with me.”

Valentina laughs at him laying there on the floor and the glazed over look upon his face. She leans over him for a closer look into the far away glimmer in his eye.

“Put your pants back on, or I'll put them on for you,” she warns. Charlie doesn't reply but instead continues to lay there on the cold floor.

Joey meanwhile staggers about to help Scott off of the floor but even so much as moving around proves to be a struggle for him. He clasps onto the back of the chair to steady himself and fetches up a sigh to ease the big feeling inside of his stomach. He takes one look down at his jeans clinging to his hips and the underside of his flat belly, and breathes harder as he stands there. Scott lays there on his back for a moment before he rolls over onto his side to look up at Joey.

“My ass is really hurting me,” says Scott. Joey hiccups and brings his free hand to his mouth; he then spots his shirt there on the top of the stove in front of him.

“Hang on, Scott—” he assures him, even though his knees are quivering and about to buckle with every ginger step to the stove. His balance is still intact but it's the heavy feeling within him. He reaches for his shirt and tugs it over his head. He slips it on over his body: the bottom hugs his waist a bit more snugly than before.

“Joey's got a full tum,” Valentina teases him with bit of a singsong tone to her voice.

“A little too full,” he remarks as he lifts his curly hair out of his collar. Frank rubs his eyes and staggers onto his feet next to him. Joey squats down, albeit with a bit of a loss of balance, and helps Scott out of the chair and onto his feet. Charlie rolls onto his side and pushes himself onto his hands and knees.

Meanwhile, Dan lifts his head so as to gaze up at Valentina as she looms right next to him there at the table. He's in some sort of delirium.

“Adrienne's dating Beau,” he sputters out.

“I know she is. She's also his sister.”

The room fills with silence as Joey and Scott stand up to their feet. The former knits his eyebrows together and gapes at her. He rests his hand on his stomach.

“I feel like I'm gonna puke,” he mutters.

“Oh, no, don't do that,” Valentina warns him as she wags her finger at him.

“But that's—”

“Oh, God,” Charlie groans as he stands to his feet.

“Come on, I'm gonna take you guys home with me,” Valentina commands them. “It's still pretty light out so it'll be some time before Daniel and I have our time together.”


	45. Chapter 45

Joey slides down in the front seat next to Dan and Valentina despite their rolling along the rainy side streets of New York City. He still has the button undone on his jeans even as he tugs the seatbelt over him. Dan meanwhile had nestled in between the two of them: his stomach feels like a swollen water balloon about to overflow the waistband of his pants. It's going to be a while before the feeling wanes off; add to this, Valentina's going to give him even more soon enough.

 _We're going to be fat boys before any of this is over_ , he thinks to himself as Joey reaches into his jacket pocket for his silver bracelet. He slips it onto his wrist with a bit of struggle given his fingers are shaking and sliding around the cold metal. _Gluttony's going to get the best of us and our dicks are going to disappear under piles of blubber. But at least we'll go at it together, all five of us_.

Dan eyes the elongated flat silver bracelet on Joey's right wrist: he hadn't worn that since they had dinner in the studio and then bunked in Oswego together. He almost looked naked without it on this whole time.

Scott, Frank, and Charlie all have squeezed into the back seat: each of them have a glazed over, faraway look upon their faces as Valentina drives them to the other side of Manhattan, away from the bakery. The rain is the sole noise in her car as they wind their way through traffic towards a few rows of cozy clean looking apartment complexes.

She takes the spot in the nice spacious garage. Dan peers out of the windshield to the fancy looking cars all around them.

This is the nice part of town. The part where the folks with more money than God live.

Dan swallows as she offers to help him and Joey out of the front seat. The latter staggers a bit and, once he regains his balance, adjusts his coat and his sleeves before helping Scott and Frank out of the back seat. She leads them down the narrow walkway, past a row of scraggly dark trees, towards a bottom floor flat with a wreath of Easter eggs and bright garland on the door panel. She knocks on the part of the panel under the wreath as Frank catches Charlie with one arm.

The door swings open and Sabrina pokes her head out into the rainy evening. Dan notices she's wearing a black and green Exodus shirt.

"Hey, girlfriend," she says with a lick of glee to her voice. "Come on in! This party's really gonna get started now."

"Just gotta wait 'til Nuclear Assault and Overkill show up, am I right?" Valentina laughs.

Dan and Joey have somewhat regained their balance but nothing can deny the feeling of fatigue within them. All of that food inside of their stomachs seems to be dragging them towards the counter to watch Marlene brew some drinks for all of them. Dan can't hardly think straight, much less wonder why they're even at a party in the first place when he swore Valentina would take him on a date. Just the two of them. Surely it would happen, and he was positive he had sealed the deal given he, Joey, and Scott had bought the pizza dough, the matzo balls, and the stuff to make the fry bread.

Maybe this is a sign. A sign that these baker ladies are in fact friendly towards them and this is proof of that. But he's too tired to think about that as of yet. All that pizza and those vegetables are enough to make him fall asleep right there at the counter.

Joey peels off his coat and drapes it over the back of the chair. Beau strides into the kitchen right then, right next to his stepmother before she goes to the living to serve Scott, Frank, and Charlie each a margarita.

Joey thinks back to what Valentina had said back in the bakery in that Beau and Adrienne are siblings and yet are dating. A taste so sour that not even a bit of sugar glaze on the margarita glass could rectify it.

With a toss of the blond hair and a look of scorn pointed in Joey's direction, he makes his way to the refrigerator for a drink himself.

 _He's a nasty filthy hick_ , Beau thinks to himself. Joey knits his eyebrows together: his contemptuous voice echoes throughout Joey's mind, but it's definite. It's there by some odd chance. _I wonder when's the last time he had a shower. His hair looks so greasy and gross. I'd step on his scrawny ass with my nice sneakers if I have to_.

"I can hear you," Joey calls out. Beau hesitates right there with a baffled expression. Dan glimpses over at him, stunned. This didn't happen back up in Rochester, especially since he knew Joey was in fact wearing his bracelet then.

"Step on my scrawny ass with your nice sneakers?" he echoes, tapping a finger on the counter top. Dan looks down at the silver bracelet on his wrist and then over at Beau.

 _This boy's out of his Goddamn mind_ , Beau continues to think to himself. _This boy who calls himself Buttercup_.

"My name is Belladonna," Joey says in a curt tone of voice. Dan brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a laugh. Beau freezes right there with his mind blank. Joey runs his tongue along his bottom lip and glares at him. Beau swallows and backs out of there as if something's about to happen.

"You can read minds with that on?" Dan asks Joey once they're alone. He glances down at the silver bracelet.

"Apparently? That's never happened before."

"What am I thinking?" Dan stops in place so Joey can stare right at him. Nothing. He only hears the low chatter emanating from the other room.

"No idea," he confesses with a shake of his head. "Huh. That was really weird."

 _Boys are dumb_.

Joey hesitates right there. The words echoed through his mind and yet he had no idea where it came from. He turns around to the room behind them; Dan follows his gaze back into the next room.

There's Marlene and Sabrina congregated in the living room on a plush looking love seat pressed up against the wall; facing away from Joey and Dan is the couch where Scott, Frank, and Charlie had crashed for the time being to relish their margaritas. Beau's nowhere to be seen in this vast apartment. Somewhere in here is Adrienne; Valentina disappeared, too.

Joey turns back to Dan.

"Wanna... take a look around this place?" he suggests to his small band mate; Dan nods in agreement. Their stomachs still very full, they sneak out of the kitchen, out the same way Beau had disappeared to.

"Also, why do you think they brought us here?" Dan asks Joey in a low voice.

"No idea, to be honest." They make their way into a narrow hallway into the back side of the apartment. Joey holds onto the waist band of his jeans to keep them from falling down his legs.

"I think it's 'cause they wanna prove to us that they're not bad," Dan suggests.

"So they invite our buds here with us and wear some supportive gear, too," Joey follows along as they hesitate there in the hallway for a moment. Dan frowns at the heavy feeling inside of his stomach, and also because he knows what Joey's getting at here. It feels odd. Add to this, Frank and Charlie had nicked that recipe from the bakery.

Dan nibbles on his bottom lip as Joey turns his head to look on at the end of the hall. Soft voices float out from the end there. Joey gestures for Dan to follow him down towards the room there; Joey has one hand on his stomach to ease the feeling and his other hand clasping onto his jeans. They reach the room when Dan recognizes Adrienne's voice.

Joey stops him right before the frame of the doorway. They linger there in the shadows, about a foot away from the door frame so they don't see them.

"—I knew bewitching that thing was a bad idea," Adrienne says.

"What was Mom even thinking?" asks Beau in a low voice.

"I have no idea. She told me and Val that it was to get Joey to stay quiet because he's on the outside looking in and everything. You know, he's the oddball of the group."

"I thought Dan was, though."

"Nah, he's like the engineer of the bunch. Trying to outsmart him would be like trying to outsmart a computer."

"So he's going to be last, you think?"

"Who knows. They keep dicking us around and every plan we've had up to this point has been thwarted..." Adrienne's voice trails off. Joey turns around for a look back at Dan, who raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

"How am I supposed to have sex with Joey then?" she asks him.

"Just do it. If you really want—" Beau almost gags on his own saliva. "—him—go for it. I'll let you go for it, just like how Dad'll let Mom have sex with Scott if she wants."

"I can't believe I need permission for that, though."

"Well, yeah. I'm your brother and I'm the main man you should be fucking anyways."

Joey closes his eyes and grits his teeth at the sound of that.

"And if that simple plan for them to get the stuff isn't enough for Val to get in Dan's pants, tell me what is," Beau continues.

"And what about Overkill? And Nuclear Assault? What do we do about them?"

"Be patient. Seducing young human men to the darkness takes time, even if it fattens them all up to unrecognizable size. You ladies'll become humans again soon enough."

Dan widens his eyes and Joey's mouth hangs wide open in shock.

"I just—" Adrienne weeps, "—can't stop thinking about the ones that got away. Black Sabbath."

"I know. They seemed so perfect for you girls, too."

"And there's one other thing on my mind I can't stop thinking about, too."

Joey holds his breath and Dan freezes in place.

"What's that?" asks Beau.

"What if they find out? What if they find out what we're trying to do?"

"They won't. Five crazy bastards from the Big Apple—well, four of them are, anyways, Joey's the foreboding prick from upstate—they're not that smart, Adrienne. If they are that smart, you can always whip out the secret plan on 'em."

"Secret plan?" Joey mouths to Dan, who shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.

"But it's so drastic, though. We only did it once and we almost got caught doing it."

"That was down in New Orleans, though. All those crazy voodoo people down there. We're in New York. If you've gotta take 'em back to Seattle to do it, so be it. Nothing ever happens in Seattle and New York's doomed from the beginning. No one'll ever know what'll happen here if something like that happens."

Dan shakes his head and Joey winces at the sound of that. The former backs away from there and the latter follows him back to the kitchen, where they're met with Marlene as she's returning into the kitchen to make the two of them margaritas. She shows the both of them a friendly smile and Joey and Dan return the favor to spite what they had heard down the hall there.


	46. Chapter 46

Dan runs the tip of his finger around the rim of the margarita glass. Usually he would be on top of a free drink like this, but he's a bit standoffish to it given what he and Joey had overheard down the hall there. Joey meanwhile fingers the silver bracelet on his wrist granted it's a bit tight on his bones. Or perhaps it's part of his imagination playing tricks on him given all that food in his stomach is easing off a bit to spite itself.

There's something overhanging their heads at the moment, an odd feeling neither of the two men can put their finger on. Maybe it's the sight of Marlene there before them with an odd glimmer in her eye, or maybe it's the sound of their band mates behind them having not a single clue about what went down there at the end of the hall.

Dan wants to tell Scott about it but he can't do it at the moment given the girls are in there with them.

And he still hasn't seen where Valentina has disappeared off to, either. Joey hasn't, either.

Dan gazes on at Marlene and the seductive smile on her face. He recalls what Joey told him as they walked down the street from Smell the Magic back in Seattle. They're like the inverse of car accidents: so beautiful one can't help but feel enticed by them even with the nasty feeling eating away at them. Those cherry lips and rust colored hair are all pulling him in closer to her. When she turns her back away for a moment, he shakes his head at her.

No. Not like this. No, Marlene. You will not get away with this unscathed.

But she's like a magnet, a seductive entity beckoning in closer and closer, into his pockets and through his stomach. That hair burning into his mind like flames and those lips drawing him to a feeling Dan can't quite describe. To kiss those lips and to feel them against his own.

He knows he shouldn't eat the food or drink from this glass of margarita but he must, even if it bloats him to the size of a balloon. They're trying to help them by giving it all to them. He can't resist. He can't resist fighting her or Valentina or Adrienne or Sabrina for that matter.

Joey glances down at his waist, still very slim and toned but feeling heavy and full. Soon enough he's going to extend out and spill right out of these skinny jeans. He runs a hand over his waist. Flat and soft.

A little too soft.

There's a part of him that wants to stay thin as possible, to not lose his slinky wiry body. Adrienne does find him rather beautiful in that sense. But then again, the food they give the five of them is the gift from the gods. To stay thin would prove a challenge, not just for Joey but for all five of them.

He turns his head to look down the hall and thinks about Adrienne. She's dark and filthy, and yet—

He can't resist her.

Dark and filthy and so lovely that he wants her. He wants her more than he wants another slice of pizza to fill out his waist a bit.

Joey winces at that thought and reaches for his glass. The salt stings even at the sheer sight of it.

To have that filthy girl running those tainted lips along his shaft and all around his waist. A filthy girl who needs to be punished for sleeping and sneaking around with her brother…

He rubs his eye with his free hand and takes a sip of margarita.

It's sweet while the salt gives it a nice balance. It's perfect. A little too perfect.

Dan follows suit and shakes his head once he sets it down on the counter in front of him. He looks over at the silver bracelet on Joey's wrist. It had been bewitched when no one was looking, perhaps while Joey was in the hospital after the accident. Wonder why it had been bewitched in the first place.

There's a retching sound that catches both of their ears. Dan and Joey peer down the hall again; Marlene lifts her gaze for a look out the second doorway on the other side of the kitchen. She leaves the room to check out where the sound is coming from. Scott darts into the kitchen right behind Dan and Joey with an odd look on his face.

“Frankie just barfed all over their bathroom tiles,” he tells them in a hushed voice. “Charlie said it's from the margarita, so he and I threw ours into the fireplace when Sabrina wasn't lookin'.”

Joey and Dan glance at one another in terror.

“You guys had a drink?” he asks them.

“Just a sip,” Dan answers in a soft voice.

“We might want to have some water, Danny,” Joey suggests.

“Also, Joey and I did some snoopin' and—” Dan's cut off by Marlene returning to the room for a moment to fetch a mop and bucket. They watch her fill up the bucket with water from the sink and then she doubles back out of the kitchen into the hallway.

“And?” asks Scott.

“Apparently Adrienne and Beau are a little more than just a couple,” Joey replies through gritted teeth. Scott frowns at that.

“How s—” He stops. And then he gives Joey a look of disgust.

“Yeah. But—I feel like such a bad boy for this, too—that just makes me want her more?”

“What the actual fuck,” Dan tells him in a flat monotone of voice.

“I don't know, Danny? I want her. I want Adrienne so much.”

“Also these girls want a little more than to feed us,” Dan continues with a slight break in his voice.

Scott knits his thick eyebrows together.

“You sure, Danny?”

“Positive.”

“You sure you guys weren't just hearin' things out of context?”

“Well, we kinda did,” Joey confesses.

“You don't know what they were talkin' about then,” Scott reminds them. “Also—what the fuck, Joey. Just—really.”

“Oh, come on, Scott, you like Marlene. A married woman.”

“Hey, at least Marlene's not married to her brother,” he points out.

“She's still mothering that—that—that!” Dan insists in a hushed voice.

“Come on, you guys. Besides, I dunno if and when Overkill and Nuclear Assault are gettin' here, but we've gotta introduce them to the girls here. And now Frankie's made a mess in the bathroom—we've really gotta make things right, y'know.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _“Start now,  
>  but we continue to balk.  
> We let the genie out of the bottle,  
> but we still hold the cork!”_  
> -Anthrax, “One World” (Joey’s voice there 😍)

“You alright, Frankie?" Scott calls out. But he never replies given the sight of the glazed over look upon his face. Marlene, Sabrina, and Adrienne had led him out of the bathroom towards the couch: the latter is holding his lush soft dark hair back from the sides of his neck. The former eases him onto his back there on the couch cushions. Scott, Dan, and Joey watch them lay Frank onto his back.

“Get him some ginger ale,” Dan hears Marlene tell Adrienne.

“Guess the guys aren’t coming over?” asks Scott.

“Yeah, we’re gonna have to call it off,” says Marlene in an absent tone of voice. Joey fingers the bracelet on his wrist. Dan watches him with a close bit of intention. He raises his gaze to Joey’s face and his brown eyes examining the silver edges.

He rubs his eye with the side of his hand. Frank groans from the close side of the couch. Marlene looms over him; within time, Adrienne returns with a glass of bubbly ginger ale in hand. Valentina surfaces from behind them, her face twisted with concern.

Charlie joins Scott, Joey, and Dan there at the counter.

_Boys are so dumb, Jesus Christ._

Joey hears that voice in his mind so clear that he swears it’s emerging from behind him.

_I want to blow Frank so much right now._

_I can’t do it without them watching there, though. God, these five boys would look so good with about fifty extra pounds on there bodies. No, sixty. No, one hundred. Get these boys nice and plump and soft. Yeah. Just the right amount of meat on their bones. Make them so big and perfect._

Joey rubs his eye again. He has no idea where those voices are coming from.

“What’s the matter, Joe?” asks Charlie in a low voice. Joey turns his head for a look over at the back of the couch. Marlene had taken her seat on the arm of the couch over Frank’s head; Valentina had disappeared yet again while he can still make out the sight of Sabrina’s fledgling dreadlocks atop her head appearing over the top of the couch.

_They need to be big. So big. Each of them. Thousand pounds of sexy all together._

_They need all the pies and all the cakes._

_Oh, God. Oh, yes._

“Danny, come with me,” Joey mutters as he keeps his head bowed out of sight.

“Why?” Dan asks him in a hushed voice.

“Just do it.”

Dan and Joey slide out of their seats and duck past Charlie into the hallway. Dan follows him towards the back room where they overheard Adrienne and Beau talking to one another. Joey runs his fingers through his black curls and then adjusts the bottom hem of his jacket and his shirt.

“What’s going on?” Dan questions him in a soft voice. Joey peers over his shoulder to ensure that they are in fact alone. Silence surrounds them. He then returns his attention to Dan right before him.

“What’s going on?” he repeats, keeping his voice down low to a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Joey confesses.

“Well, what the hell are you doing bringing us back here then?”

“Because I heard someone say something that scares the fuck out of me.”

“What’d you hear?”

“They wanna fatten us up. So much.”

Dan folds his arms across his chest and raises an eyebrow at him.

“And that scares you?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I don’t know why they’d wanna—“ Joey stops as his gaze wandered off to the far end of the hallway. Dan freezes in place.

“Danny—don’t look now. But—“

“What?”

Joey brings a hand to his mouth and his eyes widen at the sight there at the far end of the hallway.

“Sabrina’s giving Frankie a beej.”

Dan whirls around to find that Sabrina is looming over Frank’s waist. His jeans had been undone and his underwear had been peeled back to reveal his skin. Joey and Dan watch her wrap her big sensual lips around his head for a suckling; the latter can tell she’s using her teeth to make Frank wince and roll his head over the top of the pillow. Indeed, Dan notices her top row of teeth sinking right into his taut skin. He glances back to Joey as he’s staggering back towards his room behind them.

Dan lunges for him to catch him before he falls ass over teakettle onto the floor. Joey shoves the door open and topples back onto a pile of papers. Dan scrambles into the room before any of the girls can spot them in there.

“Joey! You alright?” he asks in a hushed voice.

“Yeah—man, I cannot catch a break with them now, can I?” Joey winces at the pain in his back as he sits up and pulls his slender but shapely legs into his body. He has his hand on a sheet of paper; he glances down at it and picks it off the floor.

“What’s that?” asks Dan.

“‘Drunk pastries make naughty boys nice and happy’,” he reads aloud. He peers up at Dan with a thoughtful look on his face.

“Drunk—pastries?” he sputters.

Joey lowers his gaze back to the paper in his hands.

“‘All the tequila in the world can’t seem to stop the boys in the metal world. But luckily, we here at Smell the Magic have come up with a plan that takes advantage of a loophole that other women all seem to overlook. We’re all girls—we should teach each other how to seduce and destroy on both the human and nonhuman levels.’”

Joey peers up at Dan again, this time with a fretful look upon his handsome face.

“That’s worse than drinking someone under the table,” Dan murmurs.

“Way worse,” a female voice behind him says. He whirls around to find Adrienne standing there in the doorway with her hands pressed to her hips and her cherry lips turned up into a smile. Dan swallows because that smile is anything but friendly. Joey throws the paper to side but it’s too late.

They’ve been caught.


	48. Chapter 48

“What are you two guys doing?” Adrienne asks with a bit of a wiggle to her hips.

“Just—seein' if—” Dan freezes in place as he struggles to think of the right words. Joey's still down on the floor right behind him with a flustered look on his face. “—you had any paper?”

“I think your pal's sitting on some at the moment,” she points out as the smile crosses her face once again. “What you need paper for? Especially since your other pal puked his guts out on the floor of the bathroom here.”

Joey nibbles on his bottom lip. He's in repose in some kind of crab walk position and Adrienne is right there before him. If only he has his jeans off then maybe he can work his Iroquois magic on her.

Dan whirls around which gives Joey his cue to roll right off of the papers. He sits there on the floor boards with his legs stretched out before him. He keeps his eye on Adrienne as she smiles on at him: the warmth blooms in his face and the butterflies dance inside of his stomach at the sight of her there. Dan pays no attention as he shuffles through the papers there on the floor.

“Also have you guys seen one of our recipes at all?” she asks them.

“No, no,” Joey replies with haste and a repose back on his hands.

“Not at all,” Dan quips; he spots a piece of paper with the phrase “boys are dumb” scribbled on one side and frowns.

Adrienne points her attention back to Joey and the sight of his legs still spread open, as if coaxing her inside. She raises an eyebrow at him and then she turns away into the hallway. Joey and Dan wait there for a minute before she's out of earshot, and then the latter lets out a low whistle.

“That was close,” he notes, setting down a sheet of paper onto the floor.

“Yeah, I'll say,” Joey follows up as he raises his hands from the floor behind him. He shakes his hands about to relax the skin there on his wrists. “My wrists are killin' me—don't even think about it.”

He looks down at his stomach and the button of his jeans still undone. This whole time his jeans had been undone. As Dan shuffles through the papers to make sure no one will catch them there, Joey raises his gaze to the paper he had tossed off to the side. He picks it back up for a second read. He lowers his gaze to the paragraph underneath the first one he had read over and raises his eyebrows.

“Dan,” he mutters. Dan doesn't hear him as he stacks the papers back up against the wall.

“Dan—” he repeats in a sharper voice. “DAN!”

Dan finishes out the top of the stack there and runs his fingers through his feathery hair.

“DANIEL ALAN SPITZ!” Joey spats in a hushed voice.

“Who said you could say my whole name,” Dan teases him.

“Just—get over here! C'mere an' look at this.”

Dan crouches down next to him to read along with him.

“'Our recipe is simple and yet complex. We want to seduce the clueless men of the world and give ourselves to their bodies as well as subverting them and forcing them to lose themselves underneath a veil of lush decadence. The most clueless of men—'” Joey swallows in hopes to rid of the fluttery feeling within him.

“'—are the ones just starting out in life,'” Dan reads it for him. “'The ones who are the biggest slaves to their appetites, be it of literal hunger or on a sexual level.'”

“'With the introduction of the units of Smell the Magic in the Northeast, we are finding ourselves in an onslaught of ripe specimens for our taking…'” Joey's voice trails off.

“Probably 'cause there are more people up here,” Dan figures.

“Yeah—”

The door in front of them closes and locks. They raise their gaze to find Adrienne standing before them with her hands pressed to her hips. She's wearing nothing but a black bikini top and her red apron tied around her waist. For all they know, she might be naked underneath there.

“A couple of bad boys, you are,” she says in a hushed voice.

“Danny!” Joey squeaks, but she's too quick to pounce on him. Dan crawls back towards the opposite wall.

Joey's laying there on the floor, flat on his back as Adrienne looms over him. Her hands are pressed on the floor on either side of his head and she has him pinned down to the floor with her knee.

“I have felt your desire,” she whispers into his dark lips. “I have felt it within you, baby boy—”

“Please,” he begs to her. “Please—Please—”

“You know you want me, baby,” she whispers into Joey's face. “You sexy, sexy man.” She runs a finger down his chest and down onto his stomach. “I know you want me so much—”

 _Come on, Joe_ , Dan thinks. _Don't give in. Don't succumb to her temptation. Please, don't. Don't!_

Joey gazes into her face, into those dark eyes and that milky pale skin. Dan recalls to when they were in the bakery in Portland and Joey laid eyes on her.

He has to resist her. He just has to resist her.

But even from the distance there he can make out the soft look on Joey's face. She's gazing into his eyes with a bit of narcissism reflecting back onto her. Joey can't help himself, especially when she reaches down to his unfastened jeans.

His eyes roll up into his head as she fingers him right between the thighs; Dan watches them in stunned silence. She runs her fingers through Joey's black curls, and he closes his eyes and tilts his head back to show her his neck.

She's dark and filthy and yet he can't resist her. Adrienne leaves a light kiss on the side of his neck. Dan licks his lips as she nibbles on the side of Joey's neck. It's a loving notion and yet she's leading the both of them to the dark side the whole way.

“You both are my slaves now,” she whispers in a voice so light that it sounds as though it's coming in on the wind. She lifts her gaze to Dan himself as he feels himself growing firmer and harder.

“Whatever you want, my—my—my mistress—” Joey sputters in a low voice.

“I'm going to love you and nourish you,” she continues; Dan shakes his head. “Until not a single drop is left.”

“Joey,” he calls out, feeling his eyelids growing heavy. “Joey!”

“I know you want it, baby,” Adrienne continues in a light airy voice, “all the desire in your stomach. All the deepest darkest feelings within you—I want it all. I want it all to bring home to mother—”

Dan rubs his eyes and then lunges for Adrienne. He shoves her off of Joey and then picks him up off of the floor and lays him over his shoulders. Joey standing a bit taller than Dan himself means nothing at that point, especially when he's met with Charlie there in the hallway. The three men run down the hall to meet up with Scott, who has Frank hoisted over his shoulders. They run out of there and into the blackness of the New York City night.

Dan runs ahead of Charlie and Scott to the parking lot to the car, but he runs onward to the next subway up ahead. He reaches the stairs when he feels a stitch up his side.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” he insists, his voice echoing through the stairwell. Scott and Charlie skid to a stop behind him; there's a bench against the wall and Dan lays Joey against the back of the bench: his head bows forward so his black curls spill into his lap. Scott follows suit with Frank, whom he leaves in an upright position as well: he lets out a groan from the pain in his back.

“Fucking hell,” he moans.

“Joey got his ass hypnotized,” Dan says, panting and clutching his side.

“Yeah, Frankie did, too,” Charlie fills in with a low whistle. Scott hesitates there with his hands in his pockets. He glances around the landing there.

“What's the matter?” Charlie asks him.

“Where the hell are we?”

“We're in Manhattan,” says Dan.

“Well, duh. But—where in Manhattan, though? There's no sign here. I have no idea what block this is.”

“Well, fuck,” Charlie mutters with a shiver of his body. A quiet rumble emerges from his stomach. “Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, I'm feeling hungry, too,” Dan grumbles and then he shakes his head. “No! No, no, no!”

“By the way, I'm sorry for not believing you guys at first,” Scott tells him. “What'd you and Joey find in that room there?”

“They're a gang if you will,” Dan explains, resting his hands on his stomach. “I don't even know if those women are even human. Like they're seducing the men on the lowbrow and taking advantage of the fact they're hungry.”

“Giving us food and money,” Charlie follows along.

“Making us reliant on them, too,” adds Scott.

“Right! And since Smell the Magic came here to New York, they've been rocking the whole gig. And I figure it's 'cause there are more people here.”

“Their units are usually in cities, too,” Scott recalls, “remember we were in the one in Portland we saw that big sign on the wall there? They're going to big cities 'cause of a shitload of people around them, and therefore a shitload of opportunities to seduce and destroy.”

“Why upstate, though?” asks Charlie as he folds his arms over his chest.

“We're dumb hicks,” Joey blurts out. They turn their attention to him sitting there on the bench with his black curls sprawled over his shoulders and a look on his face as though he had fallen seriously ill. His slim body looks much slimmer than normal.

“Joey! How long have you been awake?” Scott blathers.

“When Charlie's stomach rumbled,” he replies. “I feel like I haven't eaten anything in days.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"Free, that's all that she could bleed, that's why she'll never stay.  
>  White, bare naked in the night, and lookin' for some play.  
> Just another girl that wants to rule the world,  
> any time or place.  
> And when she gets into your head, you know she's there to stay."_  
> -"Molly's Chambers", Kings of Leon

Frank groans and lifts his head from Joey's shoulder. His arms quiver and shake as he pulls himself into an upright position, and lays his back against the wall. He hangs there to show off the ashen complexion on his face as well. Nothing can deny the faraway looks on their faces or in their dark eyes. Both men look as though they're wasting away there on the bench before the subway. Every breath in their lungs seems to be taking them further down to the floor.

Dan, Scott, and Charlie glance at one another with worried expressions. The latter looks down at himself as his stomach writhes and retches with hunger: he clasps a hand to his belly to soothe the feeling but it's futile.

“We can't live without them,” Scott concludes with a grave look upon his face.

“No, Scott, don't say that!” Dan insists.

“Danny, look at Joey and Frankie. They look like they're about to disintegrate. Look at Charlie!”

“God, it feels like I got shot—” Charlie groans; he snaps his eyes shut and bows his head.

“Boys?” Scott and Dan turn to look at Valentina herself standing at the top of the stairs. She has a soft look on her face, and her dark hair flows behind her with the incoming wind.

“Val—” Dan starts, but he pauses there. He swallows at the sight of her. The remorse on her face says it all. But she duped them twice over already.

She descends the steps: the soles of her shoes echo over the walls of the subway entrance as she approaches them. Charlie groans again and presses his back to the wall next to Frank, who, along with Joey, greets her with a blank stare.

She sighs through her nose as she stops right there before Dan.

“What the hell is going on with you ladies?” he sputters; he can hardly speak from the confusion and from the adrenaline.

“It's hard to explain,” she starts.

“Can't be that hard,” Scott points out.

“No, it is.”

“If it's something you're on the inside of, surely you know the answer,” Dan insists.

“Dan—it's a deal I made. A contract I signed.” She brings a hand to her eyes so as to not see them. Scott and Dan glance at one another again, this time with baffled expressions on their faces.

“When I got the job at Smell the Magic,” she begins, “I was forced to sign a contract to become a siren.”

“A siren,” Dan echoes with a nonchalant look on his face.

“That's their business model,” she continues as she stuffs her hands into her jacket pockets. “Give up your sense of ugly humanity in favor of becoming something so beautiful that the men of the world can't help themselves around you. I was told that I would have to sacrifice my life of agony in favor of seduction. I never really felt—sexy in my life so it was an offer I couldn't refuse. We're still human—just a more perfected version. We sacrificed a part of ourselves to the darkness and in theory, the only way out of it is to seduce.”

“So—” Dan starts, “a form of—prostitution?”

“Yes. We are—we are in fact whores. We make our baked goods to seduce men to the point they literally cannot live without us. That's what it's all about.”

“And the poorer the men, the easier they are to take advantage of,” Scott follows along.

“Exactly. It's because of that exact caveat—that exact point—our focus shifted from men in general to poor men coming up—or at least trying to come up, in the world. And according to Marlene, the focus shifts constantly.”

“Well, who came up with it in the first place?” asks Dan.

“No idea. Sabrina and Adrienne were both grandfathered into it whereas I was the girl who had no idea what she was in for when Marlene told her she had the job. Marlene herself says she was grandfathered into it, too. It's all the facts you boys read, but it's all tied together by the fact I signed on a dotted line.” She sighs through her nose.

“Does Sandra know about any of this?” asks Scott, and she shakes her head.

“Sandra's totally clueless about it. She just started the business and the siren contracts came alongside with it without her knowing. That's what I know anyway.” She sighs through her nose again. “Adrienne says she tried to inject some of her venom into Joey?”

Dan and Scott look each other again and follow it up with a simultaneous shrug of their shoulders.

“Well—it looks like she did. Sabrina did that with Frankie, I can tell, too.” She turns her attention to Charlie as he slides down the wall onto the seat of his pants.

“There's something in the sky,” Joey mutters. Valentina gazes into his brown eyes and the distant look in them: he's hallucinating. And it's a matter of time before Frank does, too.

“Come on, guys—I'll get you something to eat,” she vows.

“You're not going to poison us or anything of that nature?” Joey asks her with a flat monotone of voice.

“No. You two look as though you're about to wither into nothing.” She returns to Charlie. “Haven't seen hunger pangs, though. The best thing I can do at the moment is to put food in your bellies and make things better.”

“No, Valentina,” Joey sputters again; his chest heaves from the lack of breath.

“Yeah, we're not falling for that again,” Charlie snarls through gritted teeth.

She nibbles on her bottom lip at them. These five boys aren't so dumb after all.

“It's either come with me to a warm place or die here in the gutters of your city,” she says.

“This ain't my city,” Joey says, clearing his throat.

“Still. Either come with me or die here. The five of you are at the mercy of your own stomachs and your own appetites. You became at the mercy of it all when you came into this world.”

Dan folds his arms over his chest and shivers. In a way, she's right. They were poor starving artists roaming the streets of New York trying to make their way in the world of music, and yet they keep coming up short. They have to rely on her now otherwise they will in fact starve here in the subway: the lack of color in Joey and Frank's skin and the sharp pains in Charlie's stomach are hallmarks of that.

“I'm in,” he says in a soft voice.

“Yeah, me, too,” Scott follows up with a nibble on his bottom lip. He turns to Charlie, Frank, and Joey and shakes his head. If it's to save his friends and band mates, so be it.

Valentina offers the two of them to help them off of the bench and the floor, and up the stairs. Joey lays his head against the side of Scott's head and slouches down to the ground. Scott shudders as he notices Joey clutching his stomach as if it's in agony. He looks over at Dan with his arm around Frank's back to hold him upright; Valentina gives her dark hair a toss as she bolsters Charlie on her shoulder and her side.

“Yeah, guess we're fucked,” Scott mutters under his breath and the rush of the breeze around them.

“We were fucked from the get-go,” Joey mutters into his ear.

“This fucking hurts,” Charlie complains as he rubs his stomach.

“It's okay,” Valentina promises him. She lets him cling onto her like a little boy for his mother; “we'll get you fellas something good and warm into your bodies soon enough.”

“We're totally fucked aren't we,” Frank stammers in a near whisper.

“Yeah, but—” Dan nibbles on his bottom lip some more. “—but at least I know I'm going to get a date out of it, though. Fuck.”


	50. Chapter 50

It's been a whole week since Valentina picked up the boys there in the subway, and she still has yet to take Dan on a date.

But she, along with the assistance of Sabrina and Adrienne, managed to nurse Joey and Frank up to the bare minimum health after a rouse of dinner and a warm shower on both of their part. Both men were so weak that Marlene convinced that there is simply no way they can go back home just yet. Lucky for them, Beau returned to Rochester (“that's the last thing Joey needs right now,” Dan had muttered to himself once they watched him leave the apartment).

Frank said the venom left the both of them feeling as though they had contracted the stomach flu: his body ached with the accompanying feeling of weakness. Joey could hardly keep his eyes open by the time they both lay down head to toe. He, on the other hand, described it as the residual feeling of those drunk pastries on steroids.

Two usually very strong men, the baseball and hockey players they are, left feeling weak and helpless. Left feeling like death.

Valentina helped Joey lay down in the guest bed and even fluffed up the pillow to steady his neck and ease the pounding headache he had gotten upon returning to the apartment. Since there were only three bedrooms, the five of them had to sleep much like how they bunked in their hotel rooms on their tour. Thus, she and Adrienne helped Frank lay down in the opposite direction on the bed. Dan, Scott, and Charlie offered to take the floor underneath them.

This has gone on for a whole week. Joey and Frank have been all but bed ridden, while Scott and Charlie have scrounged around for paper and pencils to draw artwork for the new album. On this particular morning, Scott reminded Marlene and Adrienne that they needed to be back at the studio soon enough to record those new songs.

Marlene vowed to escort them there before they knew it, and she even sealed the deal with a kiss on the side of his face.

The two of them hunkered up against the wall across the floor from the bed, right across from Joey and Frank; Dan himself meanwhile found some stray notebook paper to start a makeshift journal of sorts. There's no way either of them are leaving at the moment, not with all of the torrential spring rain outside and Joey and Frank feeling so weak from the venom. Adrienne said it's hard to remove the venom once it's inside of them so she said the best way to rid of it is to let it flush out by nature.

Just feed them food and let them rest.

Neither of them received an apology, and yet neither of them expected it to come to fruition. The women are under contract until they can satisfy it. Seduce them to the point of the five of them relying on the bakers until an unknown point. Thus, the five of them have no other choice but to ride out the wave until it's safe to poke out their heads once again.

Dan scribbles something in the margin of the first page facing him. The words are so elusive to him at the moment and yet he has to write something down. Something. Anything. It doesn't matter.

Being stuck in this room for the past five days are proving to give him such deep writer's block that not even doodles are helping. He switches the pencil over into his other hand so he can run his fingers through his feathery bangs.

At least the women have been feeding them well. Every day is loaded with a lovely warm breakfast—today they each had light and fluffy pancakes with lots of butter and something else of their choice. Charlie and Scott both chose maple syrup while Joey and Frank both slurred out “blackberries”, and Dan asked for those Marion berries once again. If there's anything he'll always love about Smell the Magic at the unconditional level, it's those Marion berries in all of their lushness and juiciness. And since Joey and Frank are both still in the bed and unwilling to go anywhere other than across the hall for the bathroom, the women serve them their food so they never leave the room.

Dan looks down at his waist, still slim and toned even with everything they had eaten. When there isn't breads and sweets, they're given fruits and all manner of fresh food.

“I can imagine quick and easy food upsetting their stomachs,” he overheard Sabrina saying while she rinsed off some apples for them a few days before.

“Upsetting their stomachs and keeping them going for only so long,” Adrienne added.

Maybe they really did have the wrong idea about them after all. This contract binding the four of them to the dark side needed the five of them to hide out for some time.

It clashes and leaves him feeling sick, but then even upon looking over at Scott and Charlie laying their heads together as they have their backs pressed to the wall, he's put at ease.

They're brothers. All five of them.

Brothers hidden away from the world as the darkness is too strong for the time being. And the bakers are their servants. Their servants who also serve as whores. Almost to the point of royalty and yet with really nothing to do other than eat their hearts out and doodle and sleep.

This is the life for all kings.

Dan swears he's the sole one awake at the moment when Joey stirs and rolls over onto his side, albeit with a bit of struggle. The crown of his head faces Dan so he can somewhat make out the soft but pained expression on his face. Joey groans in his throat and shifts his weight there on the bed: his black curls blanket most of his face, but he can notice his dark lips twitching and puckering even from where he's seated. Joey nibbles on his bottom lip and sticks out his tongue.

The covers are obscuring his view, but this doesn't stop Dan from realizing what he's doing; he then snickers to himself.

 _Even in weakness nothing can keep Joe from pleasuring himself_ , he thinks and shakes his head. Joey buries his face into the pillow, perhaps to hide the look on his face or to stifle his laughter.

Dan glances over at the other side of the room at Scott and Charlie.

They have their heads pressed together at the crowns and their eyes are closed shut. Charlie has a drawing pad resting on his lap and his hands gripped onto the edges. Dan frowns at the sight of the scribbles there in the middle of the page.

He sets down his journal and crawls over to them. Charlie's fingers are hiding most of the drawing and thus Dan can hardly tell what's there. He brings his face closer to the page but still can't exactly tell what's there.

There's a groan and a gasp from the bed behind him. Dan glances over his shoulder at Joey running his fingers underneath his bangs and blinking his eyes open. The smooth olive tone has returend to his skin and his brown eyes are as clear as a bell.

He hoists himself up onto his elbows for a look down at Dan.

“There he is,” Dan declares with a smile.

“Here I am—fuck.” Joey rubs his eyes again when Frank yawns right next to him.

“Frankie—” Joey's voice is low and riddled with sleep.

“God, I feel like I've been sleepin' for days,” he sputters out. Frank stops right in place. “Wait a minute. What day is it?”

“I have no idea,” Dan confesses. “I only know we've been here five days.”

“Five days?” Frank stammers; he sits upright to gape at Dan on the floor before him. “We've been here five days?”

“Yeah, you guys have been in like a trance of some kind,” Dan admits. “Every time you guys talked, it was always like you were under a daze of sorts. Scott and I actually had to spoon feed you both, a few times.”

“Oh, shit,” Joey says in a flat tone of voice. Dan stands to his feet to open the bedroom door and he's greeted by Valentina with a platter filled with those handmade tamales.

“Oh, boy!” he declares as his face lights up.

“Also, take a shower and make yourself look nice, Dan,” she tells him with a large beaming smile upon her face. “We're going out to eat tonight.”


	51. Chapter 51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _"What can I take from you,  
>  what can I take from you?  
> What's worth a plug nickel from a silly fool;  
> what can I take from you?"_  
> -"Mr. Danny Boy", Mother Love Bone  
> (aka the song that makes me think of Danny)

Since they had been in the room for almost a week, and thus he has no fresh change of clothes to give himself, Dan was only able to shower off and brush his hair to where it had the smoothest consistency he could make of it. The damp feeling in his hair subsides with each and every swipe of the comb through his feathery tendrils; and within time, his hair is quite light and fluffy to spite the warm spring rain outside.

Joey and Frank lounge there on the side of the bed against the wall and watch Dan tie up his tennis shoes.

“Wonder where she's gonna take you,” Scott wonders aloud as Charlie folds up his art journal.

“I have no clue,” Dan confesses; once he had laced up his right foot, he stretches out his slender legs before him. He sighs through his nose and closes his eyes when he catches a knock on the door to his left.

“Dan?” Valentina calls through the door.

“Have fun, _ohhhh Danny boy_ ,” Joey sings to him, and Frank and Charlie burst out laughing. He climbs to his feet and gives each of the four of them a high five. He then turns to the door and flings it open. She's standing there wrapped in a little short sleeved red wine colored dress with a buttoned collar and with her black hair brushed to give it a nice soft smooth texture to it. She had donned her shapely lips with a rich crimson red and her neck with a lush spice that makes Dan think of the pastries back in Portland.

He raises his arm up to her as if about to link arms with her.

“M'lady?” he suggests as part of his greeting to her.

“My lord,” she retorts back to him: in the warm light of the front room, Dan can see a line of black and red glitter underneath each of her eyes.

They walk together towards the front door and for Dan to grab his jacket. Adrienne and Sabrina lift their gazes from the counter behind the bar, and show seductive smiles at the very sight of him.

“Where's Marlene?” he asks Valentina as he tugs the sleeves of his jacket.

“She had to—go back upstate,” she replies as she puts on her thin coat. “She left about an hour ago, so…” Her voice trails off and he turns to open the door.

“Catch you ladies later,” he says with a pretty little wave; Adrienne blows him a kiss before he steps outside to the blackening sky and the swaths of spring time rain. There is a bit of a chill in the air and when they reach the car, Dan has a bit of relief that he had put on his jacket. He bows his head before climbing into the driver's seat.

“Where are my keys?” he mutters as he pats down the front of his jacket.

“Right here.” Valentina picks them out of the center console and he huffs under his breath as he takes them from her. Quite the brash move leaving his keys there out in the open in the middle of New York City, but then again, the girls had been taking good care of them.

For a second, he almost forgets how to drive as the car lunges forward and they almost veer straight into an incoming bus, but he catches himself and they roll up to the stoplight.

“So where do you wanna eat?” he asks with a glance over at her.

“What do you feel like having?” She looks back at him: the dim ambience of the streetlights make her dark eyes glow like the cherries of cigarettes and her lips appear as if they're made of wax. Dan hesitates for a minute before he rubs his hands together and places them back onto the rim of the wheel.

He doesn't reply as they roll forward down the wet dark pavement.

This neighborhood doesn't seem too familiar at first. But then, that boutique hits him. Followed by that block.

It's all coming back to him now.

Such the strangest thing to have been stuffed silly and to lose a part of his mind for a time. Surely there has to be something more here other than what he and Joey had overheard in that back room there five nights before. He then remembers the recipe that Frank and Charlie had nicked from the bakery there; Joey had stashed it underneath the seat.

Maybe there's something in that text that can tell him a thing or two when she's not looking. It's right there, right under her thighs.

Dan pulls up to a cute bright lit little Mediterranean place with beaded curtains in the windows.

“Mediterranean—good choice.” She shows him another seductive little smile.

“In the mood for a gyro,” he confesses with a shrug. Indeed, that smooth buttery flatbread, fresh hummus and vegetables, and jerk chicken can't into his mouth quicker. She sits across the table from him, relishing her gyro and giving him a smile the whole time. It's a bit of a mess from the garlic and the hummus but she takes small enough bites to make sure her lipstick doesn't smear and smudge up onto the skin above her lip.

It's an odd thing sitting here with him as she knows what she had planned to do with him that evening. Doubt lingers there in the back of her mind as she watches him eagerly gobble up his dinner. But it's what she has to do with him.

Valentina offers to pay for their food and leaves a generous tip for the friendly cooks in the kitchen there. Dan takes her back to the car just in time as the rain picks up with the enclosing darkness.

She's about to climb into the passenger seat when she peers up at the black sky and the high rising buildings around them.

 _Beautiful New York City_ , she thinks to herself as she tugs on the lapels of her jacket. _All by its lonesome like a seductive siren_.

Dan unlocks the doors and they both slide into the front seats in unison. Once the doors are closed, he turns to her to ask her a question. But she lunges for his lips: she places a hand on the side of his face to better emphasize the kiss. Dan jerks his head back. He can taste both her lipstick and the hummus from the gyro all over his lips.

“What're you doing?” he demands in a hushed voice.

“I want you to go all the way with me,” she whispers to him. “Not as long as Miss Jackson can help it.”

“Who, Marlene?”

“Yes—” She reaches past him for something. “—go all the way with me. Please. I need you. I need you to set me free.”

There's a _click_ on either side of them and Dan knows she had locked the doors.

There's no escaping now.


	52. Chapter 52

"—what're you doing?" Dan asks in a hushed voice.

Valentina presses her lips onto his with such force that he can't hardly breathe through his nose. She holds him down by the shoulder there on the seat with one hand; she clasps her other hand to the side of his face.

He can feel her knee lodge in between his thighs. His stomach is a little too full from the gyro but she doesn't seem to care.

"Lean back," she breathes into his lips.

"What?"

"Lean the seat back."

His fingers scramble around the paddle on the side of the seat and he thrusts back. He's laying flat on his back there with the steering wheel brushing on his knees. Valentina looms over his face: stray locks of her wavy black hair caresses over his face, his neck, and his chest. Dan swallows and he knows he's going to have to improvise here.

That lusty feeling that had bubbled within him from when they were in Portland and Seattle returns to him. She runs her fingers down the side of his neck, and onto his collar bones, and onto his chest.

Dan lays perfectly still there underneath her as she explores his skin.

He feels her lifting the hem of his shirt.

Everything is shadowy and dark save for the streetlamps shining through the sheets of rain on the window panes, so he can't see what she's doing. But he can feel her. She presses her lips onto the side of his neck and he closes his eyes.

"I oughta grow a beard," he grunts out.

"A what?"

"Beard!"

"Why's that?"

"'Cause I can see you gettin' all hot and bothered at somethin' abrasive on your lips."

"Oh, yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" she teases him. She lifts up his shirt some more so she can have a series of kisses on his waist. Dan shifts his head on the upholstery: his hair falls away from the side of his neck. He can feel her undoing the button on his jeans.

She's going to do it. She's going to do it. She's going to do it!

Indeed, he feels her lips on his head.

As smooth as silk.

She runs her tongue along the side of his shaft.

Except for his chest heaving with the sharp intake of breath and pounding of his heart, Dan doesn't move as she moves her head in closer to his body.

"Like a unicorn," she whispers with her mouth full.

"A wh-what?" he sputters.

"Unicorn!" she declares, lifting her mouth from his head. "Pointed and sugary sweet." She returns her mouth to his head for another blow. Dan pinches his eyes shut again. She drags the edges of her teeth along his taut skin for an ounce of pain.

It feels so good and yet it hurts and yet it feels so good!

He gasps when she sinks her teeth in a bit more.

She runs her fingers down his stomach and down his thighs. He's amazed she can even do all of this in such a cramped space. And yet, he doesn't have a care in the world about it.

She bites him again, and that time he lets out a soft cry. He hears her swallow and she lifts off of him. Dan's laying there on his back as she clambers into the back seat of the car: he lifts his head to watch her in the darkness. He watches her silhouette shove back the back seat right across from him.

He can't tell what she's doing but he can hear her taking off something fabric. In the dim light, he can make out the shape of her knees and the upper part of her shins.

"Bon appetit, baby," she whispers. Dan clambers over the seat to meet up with her ankles. It's difficult for him, especially with his pants still down around his thighs, but he's about to have some dessert.

"Is this apple or cherry?" he asks her as he clasps onto her ankles.

"You tell me," she challenges him. He bows his head to the space between her legs. He sticks out his tongue for a taste.

She gasps at the feel of the pad of his tongue there on her lips.

"You're mine now," she whispers at him.

"Not if I can claim you as mine," he retorts to her. He climbs over her and erects himself upright on her hips. The crown of his head brushes against the interior of the ceiling, and then some more as he grinds down on her hips.

In the darkness, she lunges forward and pushes him onto his side. Dan almost bangs his head on the door handle as he lands there on the upholstery. Valentina scrambles over his hips for a grind on him. His mind goes blank as she gyrates on him like she's churning butter, or whisking that fiery red sugar glaze.

He even forgets about that recipe Joey had stashed under the seat for a minute. His mind goes so blank that he almost forgets his name. That is until her voice breaks his daze.

"You're gonna get off screaming," she hisses into his ear, "and I'm gonna watch."

Next thing he knows, there's a roaring sound in his ears. He can't seem to bring enough air into his lungs. But he lets out a soft groan from the back of his throat and it progressively grows louder with every gyration from her hips.

"Louder!" she declares. "Louder! Louder!"

He's about to come a second time. She's wheeling and dealing. It's not cowgirl: she's holding onto his knees. She has her feet on either side of his body. His groan morphs into a sharp shriek that almost breaks her ears.

"Good boy! Good boy!"

"GOD DAMN IT!" he shouts, and she lifts off of him in time. But then she takes a seat on the lower part of his belly. He's still full of gyro but he doesn't mind in the least. His chest heaving, Dan lifts his gaze up to her. The glow from the streetlights wash over the crown of her head: a car drives past them and the headlights shine inside there. He can make out the sight of her crimson lips shining as though they're made of that fiery sugar glaze on the donuts.

Her black hair is now a tousled mess: two locks at the crown of her head stand up a bit so as to resemble horns. Sex with the sexy devil in the back of his car in New York City.

 _I'm dead_ , he thinks to himself. _I'm a dead man. But if I go to hell, I'm going to laugh every step of the way_.


	53. Chapter 53

“I wonder how Danny's doing right now,” Scott wonders out loud as he shuffles through the papers on the floor before him. He had reached up over his head to switch on the lamp, and it in turn bathed every corner of the room in pale yellow light.

“No idea, to be frank,” Frank blathers, which brings a chuckle out of Joey right next to him. Both men had removed their shirts and began using them as makeshift pillows for their knees. Laying there in the bed for so long had stretched their muscles a bit too much.

“I'm sure you do know what it's like to be frank,” Scott teases him. “That was bad, I know.”

“Nah—we kinda need a rouse of bad puns right now,” Frank assures him; he runs his fingers through his plush black hair and looks over at Joey and his hands resting in his lap. He looks at the smooth brown skin on his waist, still very slim but something seems a bit off. He knits his eyebrows at the sight of Joey's arms, once toned now slightly emeciated. Surely it can't be from lack of nourishment: they had been well fed all five days they been in this room.

Indeed, Frank takes a look down at his own arms and his chest, also once toned now looking as though he had sunken into himself a bit. He glances over at Charlie, who watches him with a baffled look on his face.

“Everything okay, Frankie?” he asks his nephew.

“When's the last time we ate?” asks Frank.

“Noon,” Charlie replies with a touch of reluctance. “Like for the past five days. Why?”

“Me and Joey look like we're withering away.”

“Yeah, you do, too, Charlie,” Scott points out; indeed, Charlie rubs his face with one hand. His cheeks feel gaunt and sunken in, as if he hadn't eaten in days.

“Well, we've been pretty much bed ridden since we got here,” Joey reminds Frank. “But then again, that doesn't explain Charlie, though.”

“Their food is horribly addictive,” says Scott.

“But it's so delicious, though,” Charlie insists.

“That's what I mean—it's so good it's almost as if we can't live without it. And if I don't get somethin' to eat soon, I'm gonna throw something out the window.”

“The donuts,” Frank recalls and Joey clasps his hands to his handsome face.

“Those fucking donuts!” Scott exclaims. “Everything in the bakery, actually.”

“It's like they instinctively know what ails us,” says Charlie as he shuffles his disheveled stack of drawings once again.

“What you got there, Char?” asks Frank.

“Some sketches and shit. Gotta have something to do in this room. Sabrina keeps teasing me and I gotta have an outlet of sorts for myself, you know?”

“Val has it for Danny and Bri has it for you, Char,” Frank points out.

“Marlene for me, too,” Scott proclaims.

“She's married, though,” Frank points out.

“I know, I know. But still—have ya seen her with me, Frankie? She looks at me like how Adrienne looks at both you and Joey.”

“Speaking of Adrienne—” Frank flashes a smile over at Joey. “—our Indian might not be the bachelor after all.”

“Ehhh, I dunno,” Joey mutters with a bow of his head and a rub of his inner thigh.

“Oh, come on, man,” Frank insists. “You like her—we all know that.”

“I'm startin' to wonder if it's legitimate, though.”

“It's gotta be!”

“It's just that Adrienne and Beau are brother and sister,” he adds. Charlie and Frank gape at him.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, my God!” Frank sputters in a hushed voice.

“Jesus,” Charlie follows up.

“Yeah, I know.”

“How'd ya find that one out?” asks Frank.

“Danny and I did a li'l snooping around when we got here—and we overheard Adrienne and Beau just talking and they mentioned how much of siblings they are. God, I feel sick—” He sets a hand on his bare stomach, which feels softer than normal but also more sunken in. “—or maybe it's from hunger. I dunno.”

His brown eyes careen over to the one drawing on top of Charlie's lap. In the yellow light from the lamp, he can make out the sight of what appears to be the Not man.

“Charlie, what's on that one drawing you've got on your lap?” asks Joey. And Charlie lifts it up to show it to him, and then he hands it to Joey. It is in fact the Not man complete with the flared nostrils over the mustache and the crinkled forehead, but he looks as though he's being flattened by a rolling pin and then stuffed into a pie tin.

“I had a weird dream last night,” Charlie explains. “I kept seeing us eating a bunch of these weird pies. They looked really delicious, like pot pies, but I kept hearing this voice telling me we're not supposed to eat them, though. The dream never elaborated.”

Frank leans his head over to examine Charlie's pen strokes for himself. He grimaces at the itching feeling inside of his stomach. They probably are going to throw something out of the window if they don't get something to eat soon. Indeed, there's a knock on the door and Marlene strides into the room with those same gyros Dan and Valentina had had at the Mediterranean restaurant.

“Did you boys seriously forget we'd forget about you?” she announces in a joyous rouse of a voice.

Joey looks over at Frank as he slides the drawing underneath the covers; he thinks about the recipe he and Charlie had nicked from the bakery and he wonders if it's still in the back seat of the car. Charlie himself meanwhile shuffles the papers on his lap so they're all facing down. Frank, meanwhile, wonders what's going to happen from here on out as that drawing is singed into his mind.

And Scott doesn't know what to think because she's there and he's got his three Italian brothers on either side of him.

**Author's Note:**

> The follow up will pick up where chapter fifty-three leaves off 😉😘


End file.
